


Hearing you whisper through the phone

by harmonsangel



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Depression, Drug Abuse, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:36:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 75,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7670326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harmonsangel/pseuds/harmonsangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa and Niylah have been dating for years. It’s safe, familiar, she’s beautiful and the press loves her. What more could Lexa ask for? Nothing, or so she thought until Niylah’s brother John introduces them to his new girlfriend, and Lexa finds herself thinking that maybe safe is overrated. </p><p>The Clexa celebrity AU that features John and Niylah Murphy as siblings, because as my username may suggest I am TRASH for anything Richard or Jessica Harmon related.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No rolling your eyes with mascara on!

**Author's Note:**

> This will be slow burn and there will be angst. There will be Lexa/Niylah to start with, but I promise you Clexa are the endgame.
> 
> Not going make any promises on updates but hopefully often!
> 
> It's rated M for later.
> 
> Hit me up on Twitter @HARMONSANGEL or kudos away if you feel the need. Please do comment if there is something you think I should be doing differently (i.e characterisation) or if there's something you would like to see :)

“Ny, we’re going to be late!” Lexa yells up the stairs, not for the first time that week, or even that evening. “The limo’s been outside for 10 minutes. Were you just born with an inherent inability to ever be on time for anything, or did this develop as you grew up? You could be the subject of a fascinating nature/nurture debate, you know.” She babbles mindlessly, glaring at her wrist as if intimidating her watch might magically make her girlfriend appear beside her, ready to leave. 

“Keep your knickers on, and stop talking a load of utter crap. I’ll be 5 minutes. No one cares if you’re late, Lexa, you’re the star. You could rock up as everyone else was leaving and the magazines would still rave about you. I can see it now. ‘The gorgeous Lexa Woods redefines fashionably late in the best way possible.’” Niylah yells back from the bedroom, simultaneously applying a bright shade of blue eyeshadow. Then, as an afterthought: ‘Woods’ same-old plain girlfriend is also there.’

Lexa rolls her eyes, hard, and then winces inwardly as she feels her mascara imprint itself on the skin below her eyebrows. “Damn. Ny, if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times. You know the press loves you. The only person that thinks you’re ‘plain’ and ‘same-old’ is you,” Lexa stalls briefly as she marches in the door of their bedroom, “and if anyone else did say that, you’d certainly be proving them wrong tonight,” she adds, seeing her girlfriend in her sparkly blue dress and matching heels. 

Blushing, Niylah just jokes “You look like a raccoon. Come here and let me fix that.”

“We’re going to be even later now.”

“And whose fault is that? If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. No rolling your eyes with mascara on.” 

***

As predicted, the press didn’t seem too bothered about Lexa’s late arrival. In fact, she thought, being made to wait might have made them even more excitable than normal. She lets her driver help her out of the limo, then offers Niylah her hand like the perfect celebrity gentlewoman she is. They know the drill, after all these years. Lexa remembers when this stuff was her worst nightmare, when she didn’t know how to smile appropriately, what to say in interviews or how to interact with her partner on the red carpet. She also remembers when it terrified Niylah to the point that they almost broke up because the other girl just couldn’t see herself being that girl, the girlfriend of the huge star. Now they are like a well-tuned paparazzi dream couple, posing all the right ways, making all the right jokes and comments to the journalists. Lexa can tell which photo of her is going to feature on the front of every gossip magazine before it has even been taken. She misses when this had all been new and thrilling to her. She misses being excited about her job. 

When they have done their time on the carpet, they are escorted inside the building that is holding the glamorous premiere party for Lexa’s new film. This is her biggest project yet, the one that will ensure the few people left who don’t know her name will learn it, and the one that, according to her manager, will surely win her name a place on all the awards lists. However, the party looks the same. All the parties look the same. A huge room, extravagantly decorated with impractically low lighting, bottles of expensive champagne on every available surface, and ‘anybody who’s anybody’ milling around, chatting, drinking and dancing. Lexa thinks of her ‘fangirls’ as they call themselves, wonders how much money they would pay to be in this room when she would much rather be at home in a baggy T-shirt watching Greys Anatomy.

It takes her a minute to notice that Niylah has wandered off and left her standing alone like a lemon, mouth partially open like a fish as she is lost in her thoughts. ‘Get it together,’ she admonishes inwardly, ‘you wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation as ‘Hollywood’s hottest lesbian’ now, would you?’ Lexa hates that phrase. It filled her with frustration the first time she ever saw it as a headline, right after she came out (which is something else she hated, because straight people never had to ‘come out’) and it still angers her now. Why can’t the media mention her without also mentioning that she is a lesbian? Her talent and looks are apparently not enough, not without mentioning who she likes to sleep with as well. 

Shaking her head to rid herself of this angry train of thought, she heads over to where her girlfriend is talking animatedly to Emori and some other good friends of theirs. She stops briefly to appreciate the sight, because she knows Niylah can be insecure about her identity as Lexa Woods’ girlfriend, even after all this time, and seeing her holding her own in a crowd so well puts a smile on Lexa’s face. 

“Hey, everyone. Hello, girlfriend of mine who just left me over there to fend for myself.” Lexa hugs everyone and turns a jokingly pointed stare at Niylah, who feels no remorse whatsoever.

“You were thinking too hard. You couldn’t even hear what I was saying. These people are far more interesting,” she shoots back. Lexa just manages to stop herself short of rolling her eyes, remembering the earlier warning. She turns to their friends and inquires about how they’ve been, immersing herself in the easy conversation between people who have known each other their whole lives. She much prefers it this way, when her manager Titus lets her roam free at events instead of dragging her around against her will because ‘there’s someone she should meet.’ 

After a while Emori gets stolen away by her man of the month, Ryder, and Lexa and Niylah start circulating the party, sipping champagne. Lexa is even enjoying herself, much to her surprise, and she is just starting to feel a little buzzed when Niylah spots someone on the far side of the room and bustles off, yanking Lexa along behind her. Lexa hates heels, and is too small to see who Niylah has seen over all the well groomed heads, but she expects it is just another friend. What she is not anticipating is Niylah’s brother John, standing there in an expensive-looking suit with a huge grin on his face, hair immaculate.

Niylah likes to say that John is a ‘wildcard.’ Lexa just thinks he’s a mess. In the 5 years since Lexa met him he hasn’t held a job for more than 3 months. He is rude, self-centered and inappropriate most of the time, and has constantly changing friends and girlfriends. His various stints with drugs and alcohol have made him less than trustworthy in Lexa’s eyes, but the one thing that is always constant with John Murphy is his fondness for his sister, and hers right back. Niylah is continually begging Lexa to give him a chance, and she has in fact given him many chances, only to be disappointed each time. She is so used to his antics, his born again ‘I’m different now’ attitude that arises every time he has a new job or a new project, that that is fully what she’s expecting when she greets him on this occasion. Instead, he is humble and polite, congratulating Lexa on the film and commenting like he may have actually watched the pre-release copy Niylah sent him. Lexa is so surprised that she involuntarily becomes the rude one in the exchange, not able to form any words and standing there, for the second time that night, gaping like a fish. Niylah comes to her rescue.

“So, where is she?” She asks her brother expectantly. Suddenly this all makes much more sense to Lexa; of course this transformation is down to a girl. This also means the train wreck that is normally John Murphy will soon be returning in full force when this girl gets sick of him, or the other way around. 

“She has a name. It’s Clarke, and she went to get drinks. She should be back any - oh, there you are.” The huge grin returns as John takes one brightly coloured cocktail from the girl with one arm and wraps the other tightly around her waist. “Ny, Lexa, this is Clarke. Clarke, my sister Niylah and her girlfriend Lexa.”

Lexa recognizes her immediately. She is an actress too, and Lexa thinks she has seen her in some sci-fi show recently, although she wouldn’t be able to name it. 

“Great to meet you both. John never shuts up about his amazing sister that I just have to meet, and Lexa…you look familiar, have I seen you in something on TV?” Clarke jokes, shaking both their hands.

“Hmmm, I’m not sure…I was in some commercials as a kid, maybe that’s what you’re thinking of,” Lexa parries, enjoying the change from the normal star struck routine. This girl is charming, easing into conversation with the group like they have all been friends for years. Lexa tries (and fails) not to notice how attractive she is, golden blonde hair just brushing her shoulders and classy black maxi dress hugging her body in all the right places. Far too attractive for John, she thinks, and then feels immediately guilty. She tells herself to give this new him another chance, because everyone deserves a 2nd chance. Or a 42nd chance, whatever. She also makes a mental note to try and talk to herself less. 

“LEXA. Jesus, what is wrong with you tonight? Pay attention. You and Clarke go grab that table while John and I get some more drinks. Would you like anything?” Niylah has apparently been trying to get her attention for a while. She cringes. 

“Sorry, babe. Just another champagne is great. Thankyou.” Niylah and her brother start attempting to squeeze through the crowds in the packed room, aiming in the general direction of the bar. Lexa turns to the aforementioned table where Clarke is sat, looking at her inquisitively.

“You OK there?”

“Yes, sorry. These things are tough at the best of times, throw in John Murphy wearing proper clothes and interacting like a regular human being and I’m completely overwhelmed, to be honest,” Lexa laughs, sliding into the booth opposite Clarke. “So how long have you two been together?”

“Coming up to 6 months, I think. What about you and Niylah?” Lexa tries not to act noticeably surprised, because that is at least 3 times the length of any relationship John has had since she’s known him. She almost forgets she had been asked a question in return.

“This Christmas will be our 5 year anniversary.”

“Wow. If she’s anything like her brother, that’s very impressive.”

“She’s nothing like her brother,” Lexa rushes to answer, and then realizes how that might have sounded. “I mean, they’re very close. She’s very protective over him, being 6 years older, but they have, uhm, very different personalities.” She can feel colour heating her cheeks. She wouldn’t have any problems shit talking John to his new girlfriend if she didn’t think Niylah would strangle her for it. Or something less violent, like lock her out of their bedroom. When she looks up at Clarke, the other girl has one eyebrow raised and looks fairly amused. 

“It’s fine, Lexa. I know what John can be like. He’s doing a lot better now, though, with this new job at the hospital. Like you say, he’s wearing proper clothes and interacting like a normal human being.” 

Lexa laughs and relaxes. They fall into an easy discussion about how Clarke and John met, and the world of being a breakout actress. Lexa learns that Clarke is a few years younger than her and her show is called ‘The 100.’ They discuss past projects and something clicks for Lexa when Clarke mentions a part she auditioned for when she was 15 or so.

“You went out for that role? So did I! I knew I’d seen you somewhere other than on that show. We must have been there on the same day.”

“No way! God, I hardly remember, it was so long ago. Look at you now, though. You can’t go anywhere without seeing your face. I can’t help feeling like John could never bring someone home that would compare to his sister’s girlfriend.” Clarke is one of those people that intensifies conversations without even meaning to, casually touching Lexa’s arm and leaning in over the table. When she says this, Lexa leans back, laughing and shaking her head.

“I’m just Lexa. The reality is so different to the way they try and paint me in the press. I’ve actually been thinking about Greys Anatomy and pizza almost the whole time I’ve been at this party.”

“In that case, just Lexa, we have even more to talk about. But before we debate the merits of Hawaiian vs. pepperoni, I wanted to ask you something before John gets back, because he won’t approve my asking you this. I hear through the grapevine you’re without a project at the moment. My friend Bellamy, who’s a director, and I are working on this independent film at the moment. It’s an attempt to destroy every TV trope at once, in one film. I can explain that in more detail later, but once I got you in my head for the lead I haven’t been able to picture anyone else. I know it’s not your normal gig, and there won’t be loads of money in it, but would you consider meeting with us just to talk about it?”

Lexa’s first reaction is to be amazed that Clarke has said that all in one breath. Her second is the decision on the spot to meet with Clarke and her friend, even though she knows it might send Titus into cardiac arrest. There is something so genuine about this girl, and Lexa can tell how much she believes in this project. What’s the harm in having a chat about it, anyway? Her third reaction is to notice how far she’s leaned back in towards Clarke as she was talking. She thinks she’s never seen eyes that blue, shortly before she realizes she shouldn’t be thinking about Clarke’s eyes at all.

Clarke is looking at her knowingly, like she can read every thought in her head. Before Lexa has had a chance to answer she is holding out a card with her number on it.

“Give me a call. We’ll get coffee or something to discuss.”

Lexa takes it. She has a good feeling about this. The project, of course, not the disarmingly beautiful girl that comes with it. 

“I’d like that.”


	2. Calm the fuck down. And say something!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy are overexcited puppies about their film. They meet up with Lexa to discuss it. Lexa's gaydar is on point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, surprise, we're going to be changing POV's! I'm just going to write from whoever's POV suits the moment, I won't pretend there's a particular pattern to it. 
> 
> Also this fic is going to have blonde!Lexa (well, dark blonde) because Alycia looked sexy as hell with blonde hair and why not. 
> 
> A disclaimer that I know absolutely fuck all about the process of making and producing a film, and I've probably got it all wrong, but just go with it please, it's not that essential to the story. 
> 
> Abby now works at a private practice, not an actual hospital, as that works better for my story with John. 
> 
> For Murphy lovers, all our characters are going to get a little hurt in this fic, but don't worry, our son is going to have a nice happy ending. (spoiler alert - they all are). 
> 
> For anyone that doesn't know what the Bechdel test is: it tests whether a work of fiction features at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man. You'd be surprised how many TV shows and films fail it. 
> 
> Yes, the character in their film is named after Charlotte from Pretty Little Liars. I know a lot of people hated that storyline but she was one of my favourite characters and a fantastically complex one.
> 
> For any grammar nerds, the next chapter will have proper indentation and shit, I promise. I was under the impression you couldn't do that on AO3 but I now see that you can.
> 
> Any mistakes are mine :) Please comment if you're enjoying the story. I live a very dull life and check my ao3 way too often at work. Find me on twitter @HARMONSANGEL or tumblr: jedihaught.

It’s 4am, and Clarke can’t sleep. She has finally persuaded herself to shut down her laptop after 6 hours of moving her hands excitedly over the keyboard, jotting down notes and adding ideas to the script for her new project. Bellamy has expressly told her multiple times to stop editing the script herself. They have a writer, after all, and Bellamy thinks he might take offense to Clarke’s constant ‘creative editing.’ Clarke disagrees, imaging it difficult to imagine Lincoln taking offense at anything, and besides, she can’t help herself. She feels like this film is her child and she can’t stand to be separated from it.

She tries to quiet her mind, picturing a blank white space to ward off intruding brilliant ideas, remembering that they’re only really brilliant ideas if they arrive before midnight. Or at least that’s what her mom says. Clarke thinks that all of her ideas are brilliant.

John sighs and shuffles around next to her, an arm landing on her shoulder and latching on. She thinks back to what Lexa Woods had said (or almost said) about him at the premiere party. It isn’t like it was news to Clarke that her boyfriend had a dark history. When they had met, in a seedy bar in a seedy neighbourhood, both looking for a strong drink and a warm body, she could never have predicted that this would be her life 6 months later. Their relationship had started out as a bit of fun and a way to irritate her mother on the pretense of being in love, and now she lay beside him in an apartment she practically lived in, watching him dutifully go off to work each morning and returning every Tuesday with flowers for her. She found herself to her complete surprise, rather happy.

Clarke had never been in love and she wasn’t in love with John, but she was proud of him and proud of herself. She had given up waiting for the love she read about and saw on the big screen, figuring some people just aren’t that lucky. ‘I could live like this,’ she thinks. ‘I could have a life with him.’ The only downside was that she hadn’t ended up pissing off her mother but quite the opposite. Abby Griffin now had a young, capable and hard-working secretary at her private doctor’s practice, who treated her daughter well and commented often on how she looked more like Clarke’s sister than her mother. And Clarke, who had made a sport of ‘enraging Abby Griffin’ since she was 13 years old, found herself finally considering that it might be time to give her mother a break.

Her thoughts inevitably drift back to her project, her baby, and the impending meeting with Lexa Woods to discuss the lead role. She wasn’t at all what Clarke had been expecting. In Clarke’s experience, meeting Hollywood’s hottest new thing at the premiere of their own film wasn’t generally the most enjoyable experience. Aloof, proud, self-centred and downright frightening were all the characteristics she had pinned on Lexa before they had even met, and she had never been more pleased to be wrong. Before the premiere, she had thought the chances of actually having Lexa Woods in her film were little to none; now she felt confident and more than excited at the prospect of playing opposite the star. The girl was beautiful, and not just airbrushed beautiful. Her minimal makeup and wavy, barely styled dirty blonde hair were endearing to Clarke, just like her slight shyness. You don’t except a woman who stabs a man through the eye with the heel of her shoe on screen to be flustered in a social situation, and yet.

The glowing numbers on the bedside clock now read 4.53. She has to be up at 7 to meet Bellamy, or should she say she has to be up at 7 to be told off by Bellamy for editing the script. _Stop thinking about Lexa Woods, Clarke. Stop thinking at all, and go to sleep. Oh, and while you’re at it, stop talking to yourself._

***

“She’ll be here,” Clarke insists.

“I don’t know, princess. I think you got your hopes up too fast. I’m sure Lexa Woods has much more important things to be doing today than meeting with us at a crummy diner.”

Bellamy’s skepticism is starting to irritate her. He is her oldest friend, and is never anything but brutally honest with her, but this time she knows he’s wrong.

“You weren’t there. You didn’t see how excited she looked about this. Trust me, she’s coming.”

“Whatever you say.”

Clarke and Bellamy met 10 years previously, on a teen show where they played love interests, and had been inseparable since. Clarke couldn’t really fault his friendship, apart from a tendency of his to steal her boyfriends (he would respond to this with ‘that was ONE time’ when Clarke knew it was more like 3 times), but overall they got on like a house on fire. They had come full circle now, playing opposite each other on The 100 as the ‘endgame’ couple who were taking their time to find each other. Clarke loved acting with her best friend, but the fans could be a little intense. A large portion of them were not just obsessed with their fictional pairing but with the idea of Clarke and Bellamy as a couple, and sent them both really crazy images on social media where one of their faces had been edited into a picture so that they were kissing. It was almost funny, considering Bellamy was gay and had had more boyfriends than Clarke and all her female friends put together, but also a little creepy. The first time John saw one of the pictures, a particularly well manipulated one, he had freaked out and Clarke had been forced to introduce him to the world of ‘the shippers.’ She wonders if Lexa has experienced similar weirdness in her work. Speaking of Lexa…

“There she is!” Lexa slips through the door, sunglasses and hat concealing her face, and heads towards the table as two burly bodyguards situate themselves on either side of the door. Clarke can see cameras flashing outside and turns herself away from the window, motioning Bellamy to do the same. Lexa collapses into a chair and sighs.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I don’t know how they do it. They’re everywhere,” she lifts her sunglasses a fraction only to be greeted by a bright flash through the glass of the window. She fixes them firmly back in place and turns to them.

“Hi Clarke. You must be Bellamy.”

He sticks out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Clarke sticks her tongue out at him as Lexa shakes his hand. “I told you she would be here.”

**“** It’s nice to know you had faith in me, Clarke,” Lexa flashes her million dollar smile and Clarke’s speech, painstakingly written and rehearsed to maximize her powers of persuasion, vanishes from her mind. Lexa looks at her expectantly and Bellamy nudges her. When neither of them say anything, Lexa continues.

“So, tell me about this project? It sounds intriguing.”

Bellamy, noticing that something strange has come over his best friend, seizes the opportunity. Normally he is unable to get a word in edgeways without Clarke’s overenthusiasm drowning him out, and he relishes the chance to explain the idea, his idea, to their potential leading lady. The story is about a group of friends of varying races and sexualities, and as he explains this to Lexa he tries to make their aim very clear. Although the film will focus on some of the struggles they face as minorities in modern USA, he also wants to ensure that their race and sexuality are not their defining characteristics, as they are with so many characters on TV. He has done abundant research on hurtful racist and homophobic TV tropes and intends to obliterate them all with this narrative, including passing the Bechdel test on multiple occasions throughout the film. Clarke is particularly keen on this, snapping out of her trance and nodding along. The role they want Lexa to play is that of Charlotte, whose long term girlfriend wants a marriage and children whilst Charlotte wants to remain married to her career. As Bellamy explains the part, Clarke thinks she sees a slight flicker of recognition in Lexa’s eyes, as if that predicament might be all too familiar. Then she chastises herself for making hasty judgments about this girl she hardly knows. Besides, she thinks, Lexa’s far too good an actress to give something like that away.

“So, what do you think?” Bellamy has turned his best puppy dog eyes on Lexa, Clarke notes, the same puppy dog eyes that have stolen three of her boyfriends.

“It sounds great. Honestly, I’m not just saying that. It sounds like you’ve put a lot of work in and you’re both really passionate about this project, which is so refreshing to see. So many people who direct, produce or act have become desensitized to it. It’s just a job to them and they’re just going through the motions, trying to make money. What you two have is so rare and it’s wonderful to see. I have actually been asking my manager if we could look at doing more LGBT roles because for obvious reasons I think those communities deserve better representation than what they’ve got. My manager doesn’t think it’s a good idea; he says if I go out for those roles then I’m encouraging the view that being a lesbian is all I have, and I hate that it has to be that way. Forgive me for prying, but do you have this problem, Bellamy?”

“People thinking being a lesbian is all I have? Not so much.” He laughs. “Seriously though, I hate that stuff. I’m not out to the public, simply because I don’t want the word gay to feature in every piece that’s ever written on me for the rest of my life. That’s why I wanted to make this film, a film where all the main characters are queer but their lives do not revolve around that fact. It’s my personal F you to Hollywood. And 10/10 for gaydar, by the way.”

Clarke has heard that speech many times, but she sympathizes with him. These tropes that center around repressed communities are her least favorite thing about their industry. As much as she loves playing a strong woman on The 100, she hates how unusual it is to have a lead female character who doesn’t need a man, and how everyone has to make a big deal out of it. It should be expected and it should be normal. She is impressed, though, at Lexa’s awareness of these issues. She finds herself impressed with almost everything about the actress, in fact, and promises herself that if she is ever as big a star as Lexa Woods, she will handle it with the same grace and humility. Although she isn’t sure she fancies the paparazzi pressing themselves up against the window screaming her name, like they are doing right now. She sometimes gets stopped for photos with fans, but nothing like what the other woman has to experience. Clarke suddenly feels very sorry for her, this girl whose life is so full of people and yet probably rather lonely. She frowns as she realizes she has made another hasty judgement about Lexa. Tuning back in, she hears Bellamy and Lexa still enthusiastically discussing the issues surrounding being LGBT in the media.

“As a kid, I made it my mission to watch as many films and shows with queer characters as possible, and I was always bothered by how one dimensional they made them. Charlotte sounds like a fascinating character. I’d be excited to play someone so layered and complex; I think that would be a great test for me as an actress,” Lexa is saying.

“Awesome. Well, we can give you a script to look over and then we’ll wait to hear from you when you’ve run this past your manager. I’ve got to shoot off to meet Finn now, but it was lovely to meet you, Lexa.”

Clarke waggles her eyebrows at him. “Have fun with your boyfriend!”

“He’s not my boyfriend. See you later, Princess,” he gives Clarke a light tap on the head as he slides his coat on and heads for the door, out into the melee of photographers screaming Lexa’s name.

Lexa observes Clarke, looking mildly curious, and Clarke ducks her head to take a sip of her latte.

“You’ve been very quiet. I could hardly shut you up at the party.”

“Yeah, uhm, sorry. I guess you’re just not what I expected. Maybe I’m starstruck.”

“I can’t imagine you being starstruck by anyone, Clarke. And let me guess, you thought I’d be an airhead.”

“Not an airhead, exactly. I just didn’t think you would be so…” she flounders for right word. “Real.”

Clarke is looking at her now, after avoiding doing so for the duration of their meeting. Lexa is once again struck by the colour and depth of Clarke Griffin’s eyes, and has to consciously refrain from staring into them for an inappropriate amount of time. She is thankful for her dark glasses in this moment.

“Like I told you at the party, I’m just Lexa. This project has huge potential, Clarke, and I would be honored to work on it with you and Bellamy. But I have to ask, and I don’t want to sound conceited, or ‘an airhead’, as you so kindly put it,” she winks and Clarke forgets how to speak again, “are you sure you want me on this? It’s not that I think I’m more important than your work, by any means, but the media might as well be horses wearing blinders. They only see what they’re interested in and at the moment that’s me. I don’t want to detract from this when it’s such a great idea and you’ve both worked so hard on it.” She bites her lip, worried about Clarke’s reaction. It was so hard to get her meaning across without sounding arrogant.

But Clarke isn’t thinking that. She’s thinking Lexa shouldn’t be allowed to bite her lip like that around the rest of the world’s mere mortals, and she’s also wondering why her heart is beating approximately three times it’s normal rate. She tells herself this is an understandable reaction to sitting across from a film star having coffee like you’re best friends. _Of course she’s beautiful, Clarke, she’s Lexa Woods and is probably on the cover of 10 different magazines as we speak. But also, you know, a girl. So calm the fuck down. And say something!_

“I don’t, I mean WE don’t mind. I discussed this with Bellamy and we agreed that there’s no one we would rather see playing Charlotte. We believe in our film and we believe that it will stand on its own but having you in it would just be the icing on the cake. Bring all the press you want; we can handle it.” She grins in a way she hopes looks cheeky but cool, and Lexa laughs.

“You’re sure you want to see ‘starring lesbian actress Lexa Woods’ on every advert for it?”

“They wouldn’t put that on the adverts. And yes, I’m sure.”

“Don’t underestimate them, Clarke.”

“Shut up.”

“Ok.”

“Ok? As in Ok you’ll do it?!”

“As in Ok I’ll shut up. I have to talk to Titus, my manager, before I can confirm, but I think you can tell how much I’d like to work with you.” Lexa isn’t sure why she choose to say ‘with you’ instead of just ‘on the film’. In fact she’s pretty sure she didn’t choose and her mouth chose for her, but Clarke is grinning like a Cheshire cat and she finds that she doesn’t even care.

Clarke produces a script and they spend the next hour and a half going over it, talking and laughing with ease. By the time Lexa notices how late it is, they are have veered way off topic and are sharing funniest on set moments from their careers. Clarke’s laugh is infectious and Lexa is reluctant to leave.

“I’m so sorry, I completely lost track of time. I’m so late. Look, even the paparazzi got bored and went home.” She gestures out the window where the crowds have noticeably thinned, just leaving 10 or so very committed individuals who are sat on the pavement smoking. She gets up to leave and her bodyguards are by her side in an instant.

“I’ll be in touch. Thanks so much for meeting with me.” They shake hands and Lexa is sure Clarke holds on a little longer than necessary, but shakes the thought from her head almost as soon as it appears.

“No, thank _you_. Bye, Lexa.” Clarke watches her go, bodyguards shielding her from the cameramen who have shot up at first glimpse of her. She is pretty sure Lexa’s bodyguards didn’t move an inch from their positions by the door for the entire 2 hours they were talking, and she texts Lexa to say as much, adding two statue emojis. She’s sure Lexa has endless friends to send her cute, meaningless text messages during the day, but she considers them friends now and she wants to be one of those people.

Her phone buzzes with a text from John.

**J: what time home? Shall I make dinner? I don’t know how much water to give these flowers – help!**

She smiles and types a quick reply before grabbing her bag and heading out to her car. John really doesn’t need to buy her flowers every week, especially when he doesn’t know what to do with them if she isn’t home to receive them. It’s a very sweet gesture, though, and Clarke is not an ungrateful person. She has the idea for a date night on Saturday to his favorite club. It’s a celebrity hotspot, and he can’t get in unless she’s with him. Clarke usually resists because she always ends up running into someone she dislikes there, but she could ask Bellamy and Lincoln and they could go as a big group. She realizes she hasn’t been drunk in a long time, and finds herself missing the feeling of abandoning all cares in the world, just for one night.

Now that the idea has hatched, she is excited and she can’t wait to ask John. She also can’t wait to tell him about her meeting with Lexa. Her mind inevitably returns to her as she drives along, thinking of the way she so effortlessly poked fun of herself and the unnecessary attention on her sexuality. She intrigues Clarke, that’s for sure. She wants to know everything about her: how she got into acting, how the fame really makes her feel, whether she’s happy. Although she is flawlessly polite and cheerful, Clarke gets the feeling that something’s not right with Lexa Woods. She’s determined to find out what that is and fix it, because that’s what Clarke does. She fixes people.


	3. I'm holding my boobs and I couldn't tell you for the life of me why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke gets wasted, and Lexa stands no chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry it's been about a week; I was on holiday and now the Olympics are distracting me in the evenings (huge sports fan here). I'm pretty pleased with this chapter so I hope you like it too. Do heed the advice Lexa gives Clarke; I got glass in my foot once in a club and it was nasty. Surprise, Lexa has a kinky past. I may well explore that in later chapters if I feel the need. And if anyone wants to hear the story of Lexa's gay awakening, I will write it in. Yes, I'm naming the characters in Clarke's film after the PLL characters because I have no originality apparently. I'm really enjoying writing Titus as such a weirdo. That bitch killed Lexa and I will slate him in my fic if I want to. 
> 
> Enjoy! (as always, please comment or kudos or hmu @HARMONSANGEL on twitter)  
> \- Amy x

                As predicted, Titus was not best pleased. Lexa had tapped out an explanation into an email as her car drove her downtown to meet Niylah for dinner, the blacked out windows making her feel, as always, like she was in a bubble she wished she could pop. After their date when they returned to their apartment, Lexa was most displeased to find Titus sitting on their couch, arms crossed, bearing a striking resemblance to the dark clouds that had threatened them outside. She always thought it was odd that her security was so tight in almost everything, and yet this odd little man, overly obsessed with Lexa’s career and her life, was allowed to come and go as he pleased.

            “Titus, do I have to ask you again to not let yourself into our home when we’re out?”

            “Don’t be ridiculous, Lexa. I wasn’t going to wait in the hall. We need to discuss this email.”

On and on they argued, like she had known they would, whilst Niylah waited patiently for their unwelcome guest to leave so that she could go to bed. Variations of ‘you cannot be seen in something with a budget of that scale’ and ‘these are not the actors you should be associating with’ float through the bedroom wall, where she is trying to drown them out with music. This is not the first of these arguments, and it won’t be the last. She doesn’t understand why Lexa won’t ditch that pathetic excuse for a man; it’s not like she would be starved of choice for a new manager. She breathes a huge sigh of relief when she finally hears the door slam and the apartment is filled with blissful silence. Lexa creeps in, making a noticeable effort to be quiet despite just screaming the building down for an hour, as if Niylah might be asleep, and crawls into bed 10 minutes later.

            “Would you link to rant?”

            “Jesus, Ny. You scared the life out of me. I thought you’d be asleep. Were we very loud?”

            “It’s ok. I don’t mind.”

            “We don’t have to talk about it. It’s not like he can fire me, so he’s just going to have to get used to the idea.” There is a long silence. “Are you tired?”

            Niylah recognizes the real meaning behind that question immediately because she knows Lexa’s tendency to use sex to relieve stress. She complies, even though she is tired, because after all these years their routine is so solid it is more effort than it’s worth to deny each other anything. As their bodies fit together in the practiced way that only comes from a relationship of this length, Lexa finds herself wondering how and why it is possible for something this special, making love to the person you love, to lose its magic, and what she can do to fix it.

***

            “Ssh…it’s ok, you get it all out. That’s good. You’re ok,” Clarke soothes, sitting behind John on the bathroom floor, stroking his back as vomits into the toilet. “I’m right here.”

            She is very good at this by now. She doesn’t know if it’s related to his drug history, or if he’s just a sickly person, but they go through this routine at least twice a month. She doesn’t mind; it’s not like he can help it, but she’s sad and she knows John is too that they won’t get to go on their night out.

            The most recent wave of nausea passes and John sits back. “I’m so sorry, babe. I fucking hate this. You’re so good to deal with this all the time. I don’t deserve you.”

            “Don’t be silly. Of course I’ll take care of my boyfriend when he’s sick, that’s my job,” she smiles, trying to cheer him up. “Now, we’re going to wait until you feel a bit better and then I’ll make you some soup and we’ll have a Star Wars marathon. I’ll even sit through the original trilogy for you, because I know you prefer Carrie Fisher to Natalie Portman.”

            “No way. You’ve spent way too many hours sat with me and my good friend the toilet already. I know how much you were looking forward to tonight, so you’re going out. I called –, “ and before he can finish, the doorbell rings.

            Clarke looks at him threateningly, and goes to open it. Before she even reaches it Bellamy has let himself in, muttering something about ‘why do I even bother ringing the bell.’

            “What are you doing here?”

            “A warm welcome from the Princess, as always,” he sasses. “John called me to come and sit with him, because he knew you wouldn’t go out if he was going to be alone. Now he won’t be alone. So go get dressed and then get the hell out of this apartment.”

            “That’s ridiculous. I’m obviously not going to go out while John’s here puking his – “

            He interrupts. “I’m not going to take no for answer. He wants you to go out, I want you to go out, Lincoln and Octavia are already at the club and I know they want you to go out. Come on. Do something for yourself. Your boyfriend will still be here when you get back, I promise.”

            She doesn’t want to leave John, but the boys are right. She has been looking forward to this all week, and it would be nice to do something for herself. They have conspired against her in the sweetest way possible, and she can’t think of another excuse not to go.

            “Fine. But you have to put Star Wars on, and not – ,”

            “The prequels because Carrie Fisher is hotter than Natalie Portman. I know. Go, Clarke.”

            She huffs because Bellamy knows them frustratingly well, and turns into the bedroom to get dressed.

***

            It’s 1.30am and Clarke honestly cannot remember the last time she was this drunk. Perhaps it is because it has been so long that she feels this way, but all she knows is it feels really fucking great, and she’s confused why she has spent the last few months progressing her career when she could have been doing this every night. Of course when she wakes up tomorrow her reasoning on that one will be significantly clearer, but for now she’s going to enjoy herself.

            She is sat in a booth in John’s favourite club with a few of her usual group including their scriptwriter Lincoln and his girlfriend Octavia, and a friend of Octavia’s named Raven. Raven is also a budding actress and upon hearing about Clarke and Bellamy’s project through Octavia, had begged her friend to introduce her to the two of them. To begin with Clarke, who had obviously been much less inebriated at that point, had tried to maintain proper business contact, saying that she would take her details and they would see her for an audition in the near future. Now of course, 5 vodka shots later, she has decided there could be no one better in the world for the role of Jessica than her new best friend Raven and has offered her the part about 7 times over. Luckily Raven has had a bit less to drink and is still being pragmatic. “I won’t hold you to that, Clarke,” she smiles, enjoying the company of the less than sober blonde girl, “I’ll call you tomorrow.” They keep up their conversation in loud voices, attempting to be heard over the pounding music in the room.

            They are interrupted suddenly by an overexcited Octavia dragging them both to the dancefloor and when Clarke realizes that it’s one of her favorite songs playing she rapidly becomes rather overexcited as well. She is aware that she is not a particularly good dancer, not like Raven who has drawn at least 10 pairs of hungry eyes during the first minute of the song, but she likes to think that her pure enjoyment and enthusiasm make up for it. She is jumping up and down and singing at the top of her lungs, thinking this is the happiest she’s felt in a long time, when she catches sight of a familiar blonde braid in the crowd on the other side of the large room.

            “Oh my God, I think that’s-, yes it is, it is, oh my god, Lexa’s here!” Clarke slurs, multiple different thoughts trying to make their way out of her mouth at once. She looks for Bellamy to go over with her, remembers he’s at home with her sick boyfriend, considers the situation for about 3 seconds and promptly decides it’s a fantastic idea to go and make her presence known to Lexa Woods. Lincoln and Octavia are not so keen on the idea and both reach out to grab her but it’s too late. She’s off, mussed blonde hair disappearing into the crowd.

            Lexa glances at Anya and then at a booth, trying to communicate with her eyes how much she wants to sit down, but her friend is a lost cause, spellbound by the strange man whispering in her ear. She rolls her eyes and downs the rest of her drink, hoping to drown her sorrows. She and Niylah had argued the day before about something completely insignificant, so insignificant that Lexa now could not even recall what it was, only that voices had been raised and fingers pointed. She had gone to stay with Anya in an attempt to escape the stress of dealing with her girlfriend and her manager, who had made two more unwanted appearances at their apartment that week. Anya had suggested the outing to the club, no doubt keen to find a male companion for the night, whilst Lexa was more interested in the alcohol. She has just decided that another cocktail is in order when an extremely drunk girl in very high heels barrels into her at full speed. She fully intends to snap and tell her angrily to watch where she’s going, but the words die on her lips when she realizes that the extremely drunk girl is none other than Clarke Griffin.

            “Jesus Christ, Lexa, I’m so sorry, there’s just so many people in here and they’re all trying to push me over, I think they’re all out to get me, and oh _fuck_ my shoe’s broken, Jesus fucking Christ. Hi, by the way.” Clarke is too drunk to even care that she has a bad case of word vomit. She crouches down in the packed space, hoping there’s a chance that her shoe can be salvaged. Of course, the many other bodies dancing around her aren’t so concerned about Clarke’s broken shoe, and before she knows it she’s being knocked sideways onto her ass.

            Lexa can’t help but laugh at the sight of Clarke peering up at her, looking vaguely distressed but also contentedly drunk. Her hair has broken free of whatever style it was in, probably as a result of some very enthusiastic dancing throughout the evening, and is now falling haphazardly into her eyes every 5 seconds as she hastily tries to brush it away. Her dress is black and expensive-looking, and as her gaze drifts down to examine the broken shoe she has to swallow as she realizes it is _extremely_ short. _Look away, Lexa._

“Clarke! That was quite an entrance! Are you OK?” Lexa offers the other girl a hand and pulls her off the floor. “Don’t put your other foot down, there might be glass on the floor.”

            “God, this is so embarrassing. I’m not so drunk I can’t stand up, I swear. I just saw you over here and I wanted to say hi, and then my heel snapped and someone knocked me over. Now I can’t even move anywhere because if I put my foot down I’m going to get hepatitis or some shit-“

            “That’s not generally how people contract hepatitis,” Lexa smiles. “Give me your shoe.” She takes the sparkly silver shoe from Clarke and snaps the remainder of the heel off it, so that Clarke can wear it to get out of the crowd without twisting her ankle again. “Do you want to grab a booth? I think that might be better than sitting on the floor.”

            Clarke is mortified and glad that the heat in the club masks the real reason behind the color of her cheeks. She just nods and lets Lexa lead her through the crowd to a booth in the V.I.P section. _It’s funny,_ she thinks, _everyone in here is a V.I.P. But Lexa’s like a special V.I.P. She’s a V.V.I.P._ She tries to concentrate on following her new friend through the throng of people but finds herself easily distracted. _Wow, that’s a really nice dress that Lexa’s wearing. She has great legs. Her ass looks amazing. Whoah, Clarke, where did that come from? Was the floor always on a tilt in here? Why am I spinning?_

“Sit.” Lexa gently pushes her into a seat and flags down a waiter for a glass of water, a feat that is apparently much easier to do in a packed club when you’re Lexa Woods.

            “Oh, wow, that’s so much better. The room has stopped spinning. I can actually see you. You look nice.”

            “So do you. Out of interest, do you always get this wasted, or is this more of a onetime thing? I only ask because if this happens often I’ll bring a spare pair of shoes next time.”

            Clarke grins, not missing the insinuation that there will be a next time, even in her drunken state. She is also pretty sure that she caught Lexa checking her out back when they were still on the dance floor and her confused, alcohol-addled brain can’t get past it.

            Clarke’s water arrives and she drinks it all in one breath. “It’s definitely a onetime thing. I _should_ do this more often, though. I was having a great time before my shoe broke and I almost fell on top of you.” Her words are slurred but she does believe there’s sense in what she’s saying. Maybe all the stress has become a bit much recently. Bellamy _is_ always telling her to chill out. Clarke likes this form of stress relief; so far it’s working out much better for her than exercise ever has.

            “I don’t want this to influence your decision on the film. Your boss isn’t always a drunken idiot. I’ve been a good girl recently, I swear.” Lexa flushes at the choice of words, experiencing sudden and not unpleasant flashbacks to her wilder days when she was younger. Back when she could still do silly things like roleplay games without just feeling sad and old. She shakes that thought from her mind. Perhaps she’s more drunk than she originally thought.

            “It’s ok, really, it doesn’t bother me. We’re entitled to a bit of fun every once in a while. This one time, when I was in New York shooting, I got really drunk one night and tweeted my location to all my fans. They came and found me and we had wine and crepes together. It was great for them but when I woke up in the morning and saw all the pictures of me all on twitter, absolutely rat-assed, I couldn’t believe it. I’m holding my boobs in half of them and I couldn’t tell you for the life of me why. Titus, my manager, gets some kind of alert on his phone every time I tweet and he came to find me at the Crepe place to ‘stop this madness’ as he put it. He couldn’t get in through the crowds of fans outside. He was so angry I thought he was going to cause himself an aneurysm. That’s the closest I’ve ever been to involuntarily killing my manager, although there’s been some other close calls.” Lexa chuckles, remembering the glimpses of his bald head over the hordes of fans as he ranted and raved at her. Clarke is laughing hysterically in the way only very drunk people can. Her smile is huge as she gazes at Lexa wanting nothing more than for her to keep talking. Lexa doesn’t think she’s ever seen a smile that literally lights up a room before, and finds herself grinning back; Clarke’s happiness is contagious.

            “So, where’s John? Shouldn’t he be picking you up off the floor tonight?” The jibe is light-hearted and Clarke doesn’t mind. “Not that this hasn’t been interesting,” Lexa adds.

            “He’s sick. I was actually picking him up off the floor tonight, but Bellamy showed up to take care of him and practically pushed me out the door. He’s probably been feeding him pizza and coffee and all the things he shouldn’t be eating when he’s sick. But hey, I have the night off John-watch. Where’s your girlfriend?”

            “At home, I assume. We argued yesterday and I’m staying with Anya for a couple of days, just for a bit of a break.” Lexa knows how that sounds. She doesn’t mean any harm by it; she is pretty certain that she and Niylah are going to be fine, but a little voice is telling her that trashing her relationship to another girl in a club isn’t really advisable. “It’s nothing. I think sometimes it’s possible to know someone too well, you know?”

            “Absolutely. Getting to know someone is the magic part. My friends make fun of me because I get so excited about making new friends; I’m like a five year old. But for me there’s nothing like it; when you meet someone and you hit it off, there’s this whole new person in your life and you have so much to learn about them. Their past, their present, what they want for their future, it’s all in there and I want to know it all. It’s a really weird quality,” Clarke rambles, hoping there is some sense to her words. She is leaning in again, like on the first day they met, except this time they are sat much closer together and there is now hardly any space between them. Lexa suddenly feels as if there is no air in the room. Clarke is clearly a talk-about-your-feelings kind of drunk, and Lexa doesn’t disagree with what the other girl is saying. She likes getting to know people; it’s just hard for her to know who she can trust, but there is something about Clarke and she realizes she wouldn’t mind this girl knowing her life story. She doesn’t lean back.

            “Well, we’re friends now. What would you like to know about me?”

            “Start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”

***

            By the time Lexa gets into bed, there is a pale, watery light filtering in through the curtains; New York’s attempt at a sunrise. She and Clarke had talked for hours, gradually sobering up but continuing nevertheless until the lights had gone up and the club had kicked them out. Clarke’s friends Lincoln and Octavia had scooped her into a taxi, broken shoe in tow, promising to deliver her home safely. Now, Lexa cannot get her off her mind. Clarke is a flirt, plain and simple, and Lexa doesn’t think it was only because of how much she’d had to drink. _Perhaps that’s just the way she is._ She chastises herself for overanalyzing the situation when the blonde is probably the same way with everyone she meets. Clarke is probably passed out asleep right now and very possibly won’t even remember the evening, whilst Lexa can think of nothing but the brush of her fingers on her wrist or the way she laughs like nothing has ever made her happier. Anya had left the club with her new beau, as she has a tendency to do, but Lexa has a key to her apartment and she didn’t feel like going home to Niylah. Now she lies alone in Anya’s silent apartment with nothing to distract her from her thoughts. She is about to give up on sleep altogether and just make some breakfast when her phone rings. She can’t refrain from smiling when she sees the caller ID.

            “I just saw you 30 minutes ago.”

            “I know, but we were rudely interrupted by the club trying to close. I wanted to hear the end of that story.”

            “Why are you whispering?”

            “I’m on Lincoln’s couch and I don’t want to wake them. Their apartment was closer than mine,” she explains. “Anyway, the story?”

            “Which one was I on?”

            “When your brother took you to a party and you had a gay awakening.”

            “Oh, of course. One of my favorites.”

            Lexa smiles, curling up under the duvet and holding her phone close as she and Clarke trade anecdotes. She has no obligations tomorrow (or, later today) and right now she just wants to forget about the weight of handling her volatile manager, fixing her relationship, of films and dresses and parties. All she can think about in this moment is Clarke, this new bright light in her life, who is curled up on a couch in Brooklyn somewhere slightly drunk, whispering silly stories through the phone.


	4. Something like that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clurphy and Nylex double date. John is a cutie being open about all the insecurities and fears that men are taught to hide, and Lexa is even more gay than usual.

“I don’t want to go out there,” Lexa whines, glancing surreptitiously at the mass of paparazzi outside. They are so tightly packed against the window it looks like they might be trying to transfer themselves through the glass via osmosis. Clarke looks momentarily sympathetic before turning to the window and giving them two triumphant middle fingers. Lexa laughs disbelievingly.

“Let’s just stay a bit longer. It’s supposed to rain in a half an hour. That will get rid of them.”

It’s been a month since Clarke and Lexa’s run-in at the club, and they have been virtually inseparable since. Lexa calls her almost every day, supposedly with questions about the film, which starts shooting in a couple of weeks. In reality, she just really enjoys Clarke’s company.

“So what’s going on with Bellamy and Finn?” Lexa had never really been one for gossip, probably because it was usually about her, and usually untrue, but the lives of Clarke’s friends, particularly Bellamy, were fascinating and she always had funny stories to share. Lexa and all her close friends have been in serious relationships for so long, and a part of her secretly misses the scandal of relationship drama.

“God knows. They spend all their time either fucking or fighting. Don’t you dare sing that song.” (Lexa sticks her tongue out and continues humming the Zayn song). “Last week Finn asked him if he wanted to take a day trip and Bell was so confused. He doesn’t really understand the concept of dating, or a relationship. It’s funny, but it’s also a shame. He’d be such a great boyfriend if he found someone he was serious enough about to take the next step. I don’t know, I just want him to be happy.”

“Sounds like he has a bad case of commitment issues. I used to be like that. It can be hard, trying to find a relationship when you’re in the spotlight like we are. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if someone wants you for you or if they want you for your fame. It can be very demeaning when someone is just after your status and your money. I stayed clear of the dating scene for a long time because it was just easier that way.” Lexa remembers those days all too well, when work was everything and love was irrelevant.

“Then you met Niylah.” Clarke smiles.

“Yeah. Something like that.” Lexa searches for a way to change the subject quickly, before she ends up confessing her recent concerns about her relationship to Clarke. “What about Raven? Is she seeing anyone?” Both Lexa and Clarke had really taken to Raven. In the aftermath of Clarke’s drunken casting for her film, Raven had responsibly called her that week and arranged a formal audition, and wowed them both. It wasn’t a difficult decision, especially as they were looking to discover new talent with this project (Lexa obviously being the exception, her talent having already been well and truly discovered) and they had been getting to know her well in the last few weeks. Clarke pretends not to notice the swift change of subject after the mention of Lexa’s girlfriend.

“Raven is a serial player. Every time I’ve seen her in the last month she’s been going on a date with a different person that evening. Guys, girls, neither, Raven’s not fussy. From what I’ve gathered, she really likes sex, and the rest doesn’t interest her.” Clarke shrugs as if to say ‘each to their own.’

“Wouldn’t that be nice, though, if we as people weren’t programmed to seek romantic attraction? If you could just have random sex with whoever you wanted and no one would ever develop feelings for anyone,” Lexa muses.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think attraction is better when it’s the whole package. I mean sure, sex is great, but when you’re talking to someone you’re attracted to and you get on well and they make you laugh, that’s what it’s about for me. I would take a fantasy about a future and kids with someone over a sex fantasy any day.” Lexa is suddenly overwhelmingly aware of how well she and Clarke get on and how much they make each other laugh, and also that their knees are very slightly touching. The blonde’s eyes are twinkling in a cheeky manner, as if she knows what Lexa is thinking and likes seeing her so flustered. Lexa needs to lighten the mood.

“If you’re telling me you’ve never had a sex fantasy, I’m going to call bullshit.”

“Oh, that is absolutely not what I’m saying,” Clarke winks. Lexa is scrambling to retrieve her mind from the gutter, from letting her curiosity wander to what Clarke may or may not enjoy in bed. Her attraction to Clarke is like a persistent itch that cannot be scratched. She knows it’s inappropriate; that they’re both in relationships and Clarke wouldn’t see her that way, and yet she can’t seem to stop her mind from going there. Lexa is a girl who likes girls and Clarke is extremely attractive, and not just in the obvious ways. Of course she has noticed her friend’s perfect chest and the silky white skin of her toned legs, which were very much on display in the club last month, but it’s the little things that she can’t help but pay attention to. It’s the way one corner of her mouth tilts up into a smile before she bursts out laughing, or the way that half her ponytail is always escaping. It’s especially distracting the way that she trails her fingers over the skin of her other arm when she’s talking, or even sometimes over the skin of Lexa’s arm. _She’s just a touchy person, Lexa. Get it together._ She’s actually certain it would be easier if she was only physically attracted to the girl opposite her, but the fact is Clarke is _amazing,_ in every way. Her cheeky sense of humour and passion for everything she does are intoxicating. Lexa knows she has a crush, she just doesn’t know what it means for her and for her relationship. She needs to give this some serious thought and perhaps the best way to do that is to get some space from Clarke for a while.

“Hey, I had a great idea. We should go on a double date next week.” Clarke is still talking, and clearly does not have the same concerns about spending some time apart. “Before we start filming and we’re all crazy busy. I want John to get out a bit more, and I’d love to get to know Niylah better. Plus, we’re pretty much guaranteed that our dates will get along with each other, so there’s that. What do you think?”

Lexa thinks she’s totally and royally fucked. Clarke looks so hopeful she can’t even muster an attempt at an excuse.

“That sounds great. I’ll talk to Niylah and see when we’re free,” Lexa smiles back because Clarke’s enthusiasm is, as always, contagious.

Clarke is relieved; she thought Lexa would take a bit more convincing than that, simply because she’s such a private person and she hardly ever talks about her girlfriend. Clarke feels almost honored that the other girl trusts her enough to agree to this, when she’s already stated she finds it hard to know who she can trust. She grabs her friend’s hand across the table as they chatter away mindlessly, waiting for the rain to come down on the paparazzi outside, and pretends she doesn’t notice the goosebumps lining her arms at the feeling of Lexa's hand in hers.

***

“If you’re done texting your girlfriend, I could really use some help choosing what to wear!” John yells from the bedroom, where he is holding up different shirts against himself in the mirror, frowning at each one.

“Don’t be stupid. You know how I am about that film. If she has questions, I am obviously going to want to answer them,” Clarke’s voice looms closer as the strides down the hallway and into the bedroom.

“Yeah, because the film is definitely the only thing you ever talk about,” John rolls his eyes, gesturing to the choices of outfit laid out on the bed. Clarke ignores the comments and starts rifling through the closet for a pair of pants to go with her favorite shirt of his. John suddenly feels bad about being sarcastic with her because he knows she hates it. She’s organized this meal for his benefit, wanting him to have a nice night out and spend some time with his sister, and now he’s making stupid comments and being a generally ungrateful ass. He backtracks.

“I’m sorry. I guess I’m just jealous over sharing you with your new best friend.”

“Lexa’s working on our film; of course we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. There’s no need to be jealous; you are my best friend and my boyfriend, and if you were a gorgeous rising starlet with phenomenal acting talent, I would have hired you for our lead role,” she jokes, still pairing and unpairing outfits in a flurry whilst John just stands by the door and watches. “I know you two have had your differences in the past but this is your chance to show her you’ve changed. She’s not a bad person, J. She’s your sister’s girlfriend and my friend and I think we would both appreciate it if the two of you could work it out.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be on my best behavior. I’m sorry.”

“Wear this one. It goes with your eyes,” she hands him the chosen shirt. “Be as quick as you can, it’s already 7.15.”

“Why is it that you’re always ready before I am? They must have missed us when they were handing out stereotypes for couples,” he says, muffled, as he pulls the pale blue shirt over his head. _Rather than just undoing all the buttons like a normal person,_ thinks Clarke.

“That would be because you’re never ready until I dress you, and I never dress you until I’m ready.”

“Or because you don’t need a nice outfit to look gorgeous. You always do.”

Clarke pulls him in by the lapels of his shirt and gives him a quick kiss.

“Now on that, we agree. Let’s go.”

***

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Niylah stands up and embraces her brother, pointing to her watch and pretending to be annoyed at their tardiness. “Nice of you to show up, little brother.” She hugs Clarke and notices Lexa eyeing her brother warily, not sure how to act around him, as always. John wants to show Clarke he can be the bigger person, so he steps forward and gives Lexa a polite half hug. “Looking lovely as always, Lexa.” Automatic politeness takes over and Lexa hugs him back, “Good to see you, John. How are things?”

They settle into their seats as John fills them in on how his job at Abby Griffin’s private practice is going. “He’s like the child in the medicine industry that my mom always wanted,” Clarke chimes in cheerily. John hits her lightly on the shoulder. “You know your mom is proud of you.”

“Oh, I know she is. It just took her a long time to get round to the idea of having an actress as a daughter, that’s all.”

“You said you were going to start being nice to her.”

“And I have! I cooked you both dinner last week, didn’t I?”

“Oh yes. I distinctly recall the burnt potatoes.”

“Shut up.”

Lexa watches the easy banter between Clarke and the smiling, well-dressed man beside her who claims to be John Murphy, and has to admit that maybe he really has changed. She has seen him a handful of times since the premiere party and has been pleasantly surprised each time. He always looks presentable, he is always polite and more than anything else he always seems to be doing something for Clarke. The John Lexa used to know wasn’t interested in doing anything for anyone, and now he seems willing to follow his girlfriend to the ends of the earth. _She’s worth it_. The thought flits through Lexa’s mind before she can stop it, and she internally winces. _Think about something else._ Clarke looks lovely, in a smart white shirt with roses on it, her golden hair stylishly messy as always. _No, Lexa, not Clarke._ She settles for ending her internal monologue and trying to contribute to the conversation. She has an overwhelming urge to interrupt Clarke and John’s playful domestic argument. Luckily Niylah does it for her before she says something embarrassing.

“As if you could have done any better, J. I bet you didn’t know that until he was 22 John couldn’t make anything more sophisticated than a bacon sandwich.”

“No, he hasn’t shared that particular information with me. He thinks he’s some kind of culinary God.” Clarke turns to him, feigning outrage.

“I took a course! I _am_ a culinary God,” he huffs.

“Well Ny has ramen noodles for dinner if I’m not home, so that must run in the family,” Lexa joins in, laughing.

“I _can_ cook. I’m just lazy.”

They continue to debate each other’s domestic skills, ordering food along the way and consuming a healthy amount of red wine. At some point they end up on the subject of Clarke’s film.

“So how long until you start filming?” Niylah asks Clarke.

“Oh, only 2 weeks now. It’s come round really fast, but I can’t wait. We’ve got a great cast. You’re going to love working with them, Lex.”

Niylah notices the endearing nickname, but tries to think nothing of it.

“I’ve met some of them and I can’t wait. I think you and Raven would get on great, Ny. She dabbles in engineering for fun on the side of being an actress and she’s had a really interesting life.”

“Well, all I can say is you better be throwing some glamorous cast parties, Clarke. This one,” she nudges Lexa, “hates events for her films so I hardly ever get to dress up. I have outfits that need an audience.”

“Oh there will be parties, and they will be glamorous, I promise. We’ll just have to convince her that our ones are worth attending.”

Lexa isn’t sure how she feels about this conversation going on as if she isn’t sat right there.

“Of course I’ll come. I only hate them when it’s a project Titus has forced me to work on, or when the other cast members are assholes. I’m excited about this one.”

“I’m glad. Bellamy thinks it’s wonderful that I’ve found someone else to call at 2am with my ideas. He says he’s never been so well rested.”

Lexa feels Niylah tense beside her. _Fuck._ She had told her the late phone calls had been with her parents, who were going through a messy divorce. This was true, but the constant contact with Lexa was not. She isn’t even sure why she lied; she doubts Niylah would have had a problem with Lexa talking to Clarke about the movie, which is pretty harmless, even if it was in the middle of the night. Except that they weren’t always talking about the movie, and it didn’t always feel completely harmless, at least not to Lexa. She really hopes Niylah isn’t going to make a scene right here at dinner and will give her a chance to explain later, at home. Although what excuse she is going to give she isn’t quite sure. Thankfully Niylah barely reacts to Clarke’s words and responds smoothly.

“Men need their rest. They’re not tough like us. You should have seen this one as a teenager,” she quips, never missing an opportunity to tease her brother. Lexa lets out a small sigh of relief.

Overall, the double date is a success. Lexa and John are civil, almost friendly, and the group sit and chat for hours. Niylah can blatantly see the effect Clarke has on John, and she is immensely grateful to the girl for turning his life around. She isn’t so pleased, however, by the revelation that her girlfriend has been making phone calls to this girl in the middle of the night, and then lying about it. They need to talk.

It’s late by the time they stand up to leave. Clarke and John had got the subway to the restaurant so that they could both have a glass of wine, but they hadn’t bargained on dinner lasting so long and are now unsure about riding it home so late at night. John was once mugged on the train when he was coming home from work, before Clarke met him, and she knows how much he hates having to use it now after dark. She isn’t a big fan herself, having had the dangers of the subway thoroughly drilled into her by her mother as a child. Even now as an adult, she would rather not risk it. John is looking nervously between the window and Clarke.

“It’s fine, J. We’ll get a cab.”

Whilst Lexa and Niylah wait for their driver to come round with their car, Clarke and John dash out into the rain to try and flag down a cab, to no avail. They try for about 10 minutes in vain, watching occupied cabs whizz by, splashing them with muddy rainwater from the side of the road as if to rub it in.

From their car, waiting patiently to check her brother gets off OK (old habits die hard), Niylah peers out the window and shouts:

“Isn’t your work just round the corner from ours? Why don’t you just stay with us tonight? J can get to the practice easily in the morning and Clarke can get the subway when it’s light.”

“Oh no, really, it’s fine. It’s not a problem-,”

“Honestly, Clarke. We have so many spare rooms. It’s Saturday night in New York; you could be waiting ages for a cab and it’s pouring with rain. You can borrow some clothes from Lexa or me if you want, and I think I have some of J’s stuff somewhere…”

( _Lexa’s heart absolutely does not speed up at the thought of Clarke wearing her clothes)._

Clarke doesn’t want to burden them for the night, but Niylah is so kind for offering and she is pretty tired. The long wait in the cold followed by a 50 minute drive isn’t particularly appealing, and she thinks if they stand in the rain any longer John will probably get sick again.

“Are you sure? That’s very kind of you.”

“Of course!” Niylah slides over on the back seat of the limo to allow them space. John’s eyes widen at the inside of Lexa’s private car.

“To your apartment, Miss Woods?” asks James, their burly driver whom Lexa has never seen without his sunglasses on, even now when it’s dark and there is torrential rain hammering down on the roof.

“Thanks James,” Niylah answers for her.

Lexa hasn’t spoken much since Clarke mentioned their film over dinner. She hopes she hasn’t offended or annoyed her in some way. She resists the urge to send her a text, which would be ridiculous when she’s sat less than a foot away. Of course, she can’t ask her if there’s a problem with John and Niylah there. She settles for trying to catch her eye, but Lexa is staring out the window resolutely trying to avoid looking at anyone, especially Clarke.

***

After saying goodnight to their lodgers, Lexa sits in bed and scrolls aimlessly through her phone as she waits for Niylah to finish getting ready for bed. She knows they’re going to have to talk about what Clarke unknowingly revealed at dinner, she just doesn’t know how, or when, or whether she should be the one to bring it up. Her mind is made up for her a second later when Niylah sinks down heavily beside her, eyeing her phone, and says:

“You don’t have to text Clarke tonight. You can just go down the hall and tell her whatever it is you’re apparently so desperate to share in the middle of the night.”

“Did you invite them back here just so that you could say that to me?” Even though she knows she’s the one in the wrong, Lexa is mildly annoyed at Niylah’s comment. She had hoped they would be able to discuss this in a slightly more mature fashion.

“Ny, Clarke and I, it’s not like that-,”

“I know. But you lied, and I don’t understand why. We need to talk, but I’m tired and a little drunk and I just really don’t feel like doing that right now. Tomorrow, ok?” She turns the lights off, ending the conversation with finality.

“Ok, Lexa murmurs, although she hates going to bed angry, or knowing that someone else is angry at her. As she tries to get comfortable she has to stop herself from reaching for Niylah’s hand as she would on any other night. She feels cold, as if the absence of the warm body against her is an icy blanket, shrouding and suffocating her. They have drifted off to sleep together holding hands almost every night for 5 years, and although she is still less than a foot away, Lexa feels as if they have never been further apart. Her guilty conscience is deafening in the eerie silence of the apartment.

_You did that_. _This is your fault. Now the important question is, do you want to fix it?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware at this point it feels like Lexa's feelings are pretty one sided. I'm working on writing more from Clarke's POV so that we can see the conflict she's having as well. There's a scene at the start of Chapter 5 that makes her attraction to Lexa pretty clear..;) 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. Please point out anything you like or anything you think might be done better. I'm @HARMONSANGEL on twitter, or comment on here and don't forget to kudos. Mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Having way too much with this.   
> \- Amy x


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke wakes up in Lexa's apartment and doesn't mean to be a creep. Octavia and Raven have advice for Clarke even if it's not what she wants to hear. Lexa and Niylah talk.

Clarke wakes up late the next morning with the slight sense of unease that comes from waking up in a strange bed feeling slightly hungover. She is fully clothed and alone in the bed, so that’s something, but her exact whereabouts are still unclear. She sits up and casts her eyes around the room in an attempt to jog her memory, and sighs in relief when she sees John’s jacket lying on the floor next to her heels and recalls their dinner date last night. Clarke is surprised to see that she has slept until 10.15 and she must have slept right through John leaving for work 3 hours prior. She imagines her hosts have also left as she knows Niylah works similar hours to John, and she thinks she remembers Lexa saying something about meeting her manager.

Crap, Lexa. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach she remembers her panicked expression at the table last night around the time Clarke had been raving about their film. She had hidden it well like the professional actress she is, but Clarke hadn’t missed the split second that Lexa’s eyes darted to her girlfriend and then down at the table almost as if she was guilty of something. She wracks her brains for something she might have unwittingly revealed to Niylah. It is only when she reaches for her phone that the thought dawns on her. Clarke has gotten used to having a text from Lexa when she wakes up; if they’re not on the phone or in the same room then they’re usually shooting stupid, meaningless messages back and forth. Then of course there’s the phone calls, sometimes hours long and usually in the small hours of the morning, where they talk endlessly about everything. Sometimes they’re silly conversations but mostly, as exchanges between 12am and 4am tend to be, they are more serious. Clarke had mentioned them, hadn’t she? It had only been some stupid joke about Bellamy needing his sleep, but somehow she knows that is what had upset her friend. She curses herself inwardly and adds ‘apologize to Lexa’ to her mental to-do list.

She pads around the room, collecting her clothes from where she had discarded them in her tired, drunken state. Niylah had said she could borrow something clean from one of them if she wanted, but she feels weird about nosing around in their drawers and just dresses in yesterday’s outfit. _Let the people on the subway think that I’m doing the walk of shame, what do I care?_ The only slight concern she has is that she might run into a fan and have to smile for a selfie in this state. _I wonder if Lexa has a hat and sunglasses lying around…_

She does, as it turns out. In fact, she has multiple. Clarke is reminded once again of the kind of life Lexa leads, where leaving her apartment without a form of disguise would mean certain recognition and not reaching her destination for hours. She puts on the cheapest looking pair and is about to slip out the front door when she hears a rustling from down the hall. _Someone is still here. I’ll just go and see if they’re awake and explain why I’m stealing from their apartment._

She creeps down the hallway, the plush carpet muffling the noise of her approaching footsteps. The door is partially open and as she sticks her head round she has to take a moment to collect herself at the sight of Lexa’s flawlessly decorated and frankly impractically large bedroom. It is all pastel rugs, intricate wall hangings and matching oaken furniture. In a walk-in wardrobe at the far end Clarke can see at least 100 pairs of shoes, impeccably organized and color coordinated, and thinks of her own closet where she is lucky if she can find a matching pair in all the mess. A dressing table and mirror runs the length of an entire wall, home to the kind of makeup collection Clarke can only dream of. Another wall is entirely made up of windows with a breathtaking view of the city, and in the middle of it all stands a magnificent four-poster bed. Clarke starts as she realizes that whilst gaping at the beautiful room she had failed to notice a person sleeping in the bed, tangled up amongst the pristine white sheets. Not just a person, Lexa. And not just Lexa, but almost naked Lexa. She stands there for a few seconds until her brain finally gets in touch with her feet and reverses her slowly out of the bedroom. She perches against the counter in the kitchen trying desperately to think of something other than the visible strip of Lexa’s abdomen where her tiny tank top had ridden up or the smooth look of her long, tanned legs stretched out in the spacious bed. She is definitely not replaying the image of her slightly see-through top where it is tighter around her chest. Nope. Absolutely not thinking about that.

These thoughts are new to Clarke and she doesn’t know what to make of them. She has considered that she might be bisexual in the past, but not thought much about it because she has always had boyfriends. It’s not being attracted to a woman that she cares about, but being attracted to a friend. A very good friend, even if they hadn’t known each other very long. If she’s being honest with herself she has noticed this before now and sometimes even played into it, deliberately bumping Lexa’s knee under the table or holding her hand just because she likes the way it feels. _I have a boyfriend,_ she panics. _Does this make me a bad person?_ Now she can’t shake the image of Lexa’s bare skin from her mind and her stomach is doing little somersaults. She tries to actively stop this from happening by pinching herself lightly and decides that it isn’t really her fault; you can’t help attraction and as long as she doesn’t act on it she isn’t doing anything wrong. She likes to think that nothing can go wrong from being honest, but perhaps in this particular situation honesty may not be the best policy with John. She could, however, speak to Lexa about it. Obviously she has no intention of following up on these feelings but she might feel better if she was honest and up front about them.

She is just attempting to leave Lexa’s apartment for the second time that morning when –

“Clarke? Is that you?”

Lexa appears in the kitchen in a pair of grey sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, hair tousled and eyes still fuzzy with sleep.

_Thank God,_ thinks Clarke. Even if she still looks pretty damn good, Clarke is much less distracted now that she has some clothes on.

“Why are you wearing last night’s dress? And my sunglasses?”

She looks adorably confused as she makes a beeline for the coffee machine, throwing a curious glance at Clarke who now feels incredibly stupid in her current outfit.

“Oh, uh, you were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you for some clothes. The sunglasses were to minimize my chances of fans recognizing me, because I look horrendous and kind of like I’m doing the walk of shame…”

“You never look horrendous.”

Clarke blushes. “Thank you.”

“We wouldn’t want any lurking paparazzi to get the wrong idea, though. You can borrow some clothes. You can even keep them if you want; our closet is overflowing.”

_Looked pretty tidy to me when I was in your bedroom this morning. Don’t say that out loud, you creep._

“Oh, um, no…that’s fine thanks. I’ll just grab something and go,” she stammers.

“Do you have to be anywhere today?”

“No…I don’t think so…”

“Then stay. I’ll make you breakfast.”

She smiles her million dollar smile and Clarke is powerless to resist.

“Sure. I’ll just go get changed.”

“Take whatever you want.”

She changes quickly into jeans and an oversized jumper, not wanting to dwell for too long in Lexa’s bedroom, and returns to the kitchen where there is a glorious looking mug of coffee waiting for her on the table. She flops down in a chair and wraps her hands greedily around the warm mug, savoring the delicious smell. She is certain that in all her 25 years of life she has never experienced a more satisfying moment than the first sip of coffee in the morning, particularly when wine has been involved the night before. Lexa casts a glance at Clarke from her position over the stove where something that smells equally delicious is sizzling in a pan.

“No one looks that happy about coffee unless they’re hungover. How much wine did we get through last night?”

“Oh, trust me, I always look this happy about coffee,” Clarke reassures, “but we did have quite a lot of wine. We went through at least 3 bottles and John didn’t have much.”

“Niylah’s not a great one for drinking, so I guess it was mostly just us two. That explains my headache.” Lexa disappears into the bathroom momentarily and returns with a pack of paracetamol. She dry swallows 3 at once and sets the packet down next to Clarke. Noticing the alarmed expression on her face she rushes to assure her. “They barely have an effect on me. It’s a long story.” Clarke translates that to mean ‘don’t ask’ so she changes the subject.

“Did you have a good time last night? You know, headache this morning notwithstanding?”

“It was a nice evening. You’ve really done a number on John Murphy. Honestly I’m amazed; he’s like an entirely new man.”

“I shouldn’t take the credit. He’s worked really hard to change.”

Lexa nods as she carries two steaming plates over to the table and sits down opposite Clarke. “Enjoy.”

They fall into a comfortable silence for a minute or so, Clarke thoroughly enjoying her bacon and eggs. She decides she needs to get on with her apology.

“So…I’m really sorry about, you know, telling Niylah about the phone calls.” Lexa attempts to feign innocence and Clarke jumps in, “and you don’t need to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I saw your face, and hers, when I mentioned it and I’m really sorry. I should have checked with you that she knew. It was really stupid of me.”

Lexa’s face softens. She was never mad at Clarke. The only person she was mad at was herself for feeling the need to lie. Yet here Clarke was, clearly feeling guilt over the whole thing and Lexa wants to slap herself. She should have better hidden her anguish last night and then maybe Clarke wouldn’t have had to assume any blame.

“God, Clarke, it’s not your fault. There’s no way you would have known and you absolutely don’t need to be sorry. I don’t even know why I didn’t tell her, because now it seems like a big deal when it’s not.” This is one of those moments when Lexa’s body has acted without the permission of her brain, because all of a sudden she is reaching for Clarke’s hand without ever making the conscious decision to do so. Clarke’s brain is in overload as she tries to deal with the shivers Lexa’s touch has sent down her spine at the same time as being ever so slightly hurt by her words. She has no right to be, and she knows that, but the fact is their phone calls are a big deal to Clarke. In fact they are rapidly becoming the best part of her day.

“I get why you didn’t tell her though. Sometimes it’s nice to have something in your life that doesn’t involve your partner,” Clarke nods understandingly.

“Yeah, I guess. To me it just felt like those conversations were kind of private, and not in an… inappropriate way, of course,” Lexa is blushing and the somersaults in Clarke’s stomach have recommenced with gusto. “It’s like you said at the club. It’s exciting for me to have a new friend, especially because I don’t meet many new people I can trust in my line of work, and I like getting to know you. I just wanted, for once, to have something of my own that I don’t share with her. But I fucked it all up because I lied and nothing good ever comes from lying.” Clarke is reminded of her earlier mantra that nothing can go wrong from being honest. Her mouth is off and running before her mind has a chance to catch up.

“I think you’re attractive,” she blurts. _Oh wow, Clarke, that was direct. Keep going before it gets even weirder._ “Oh god, that sounds so bad when you say it out loud. Sorry, that’s…I mean that in the most appropriate way possible. I don’t want to change anything. I lo-,” she stops herself, “I’m very happy with John. I just think you’re really beautiful, and funny and I- I like being your friend. I just have this thing about honesty, and I wanted you to know that,” Clarke is doing what she does best when under duress. She is babbling. Lexa, who is working very hard to keep her face impassive while her heart is attempting to beat out of her ribcage, cuts her off.

“That’s really sweet, Clarke, thank you. I like the honesty policy. I think I need to employ that a bit more in my everyday life, to be honest. I think you’re attractive, too, and you’re an amazing person and you make me laugh. I made a really bad call lying to Niylah, and I’m going to talk to her about it later but I’m just really glad we met and I can’t wait for shooting to start,” she looks up and Clarke is smiling back at her and all of a sudden the moment feels too intimate for comfort. She gets up suddenly to make more coffee; an excuse to withdraw her hand from Clarke’s before she noticed how sweaty her palms have become.

“Good, well, I’m glad we got that cleared up. What are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“I am…hanging out with you. Unless you’re busy.”

“I’m not. I thought you had a meeting with Titus this morning?”

“I postponed. You know that emoji with the steam coming out of its ears? That’s Titus at the moment, all the damn time. I can’t deal with him today. I am being irresponsible and running full speed away from my problems,” she grins. ( _Well, you’re running from that particular problem. Your other problem is standing in your kitchen with plans to take you out for lunch.)_

“I think after such a model career you can afford to be irresponsible every once in a while. Which reminds me, Raven and Octavia want to have a girls’ night next Friday before filming starts, and you’re welcome to join.”

“That sounds great. Just to confirm, girls night is like…pizza and movies, right? Because when I was growing up, girls’ night sometimes had a bit of a double meaning…”

It takes Clarke a minute to catch on before she starts laughing.

“You’re terrible.”

“I speak only the truth.”

Their coffee gets cold as Clarke listens with rapt attention to the stories of Lexa’s devious teenage adventures. They are so wrapped up in each other that Lexa doesn’t even hear the noise of her phone ringing multiple times in her back pocket.

Across the city, hunched over her lunch at work, Niylah sighs heavily as she leaves voicemail after voicemail. She finally gets through on around her 8th attempt, but it becomes immediately obvious it’s been answered by accident in a pocket when all she can hear is rustling and the faint tone of voices. She recognizes Lexa’s laugh immediately, followed by a second unfamiliar voice, definitively female. She digs her nails into the palm of her hand and promises herself she won’t cry at work.

***

“Have you ever been attracted to a girl?” It’s around 8pm and Clarke had arrived back from Lexa’s about half an hour ago, shortly before Octavia had turned up at her apartment with a bottle of wine ‘she just couldn’t stand to drink alone.’ Raven had also stopped by and was lying spread-eagled on the floor playing a very complicated looking game on her phone. Clarke’s question was directed at Octavia because she was pretty sure Raven was currently fucking a girl (she would say dating, to be more politically correct, but Raven had baulked at the phrase and insisted on fucking) so that pretty much answered her question.

“Hmm…I don’t think so. I mean, girls are beautiful and I notice that all the time, but I’ve never looked at a woman and thought ‘I’m going to commit that ass to memory for later when I’m-‘”

“OK! Point taken,” concedes Clarke.

“Sexuality’s a spectrum. There’s not just gay, straight or bi, you can fall anywhere on it,” pipes up Raven. “I have no word for who I like and I don’t need one. I just like people.”

“Why? Have you been having thoughts about girls? Dirty thoughts?” says Octavia, loving every second of this.

“Why do you have to be so vulgar at every given opportunity?” Clarke huffs. “They’re not dirty thoughts. ( _Ok, maybe there were some dirty thoughts, but I’m not going to tell them that.)_ I’m just starting to give more thought to my sexuality. I feel like when I was younger I just assumed I was completely straight because I had boyfriends, but now…I don’t know.”

“Is there a particular girl who is making you wonder? You know you have a boyfriend, Clarke,” Raven is sitting up now, looking at her accusingly.

“Of course I know that. There’s no particular girl ( _a lie),_ I’ve just been wondering, you know, about myself. I don’t think about anyone other than John in that way ( _another lie, she was definitely not thinking about John when she could see Lexa’s nipples this morning, but that’s definitely not something for sharing time.)_ It’s so hard to explain this. I’m not being unfaithful, or planning on it, I swear.”

“Ok, if you’re sure. In my experience when you’re really in love with someone, it’s like there’s no one else in the world. I don’t think I’ve looked a single guy’s ass since I met Lincoln. So if you are, uh, noticing someone else, guy or girl, that’s something to really think about. But I’m not here to judge, Clarke. You can tell me anything.”

“Me, too,” from Raven. “I’m a hoe so no judgement here.”

Clarke sighs as she considers Octavia’s words.

“Ugh, pass the wine.”

***

Lexa pushes her food around her plate, making a pattern in her mashed potato. She had cooked for Niylah as she did most nights but it seemed as though neither of them had much of an appetite tonight. Lexa’s pretty sure it’s been at least 84 years since either of them said something. Sad, she thinks, how two people with so much of their lives entwined can run out of things to say.

“Ok, this is getting ridiculous. Start talking or I’ll talk for you.” Niylah is upset. She’s significantly more upset now than she was last night, now that Lexa has not only lied but also ignored her calls all day in favor of spending time with someone else, probably Clarke. Lexa scratches at her arm as she tries to think of the best way to attack this. An apology is never a bad way to start.

“I’m sorry I lied.”

“Ok. Why did you lie?”

“I honestly don’t know. I guess I just liked talking to Clarke and I didn’t want to have to explain myself. I don’t really have a reason and I don’t want to make excuses. I promise you, there’s nothing going on with Clarke and I, and I’m sorry my lying made it seem that way.”

“And today? I called you so many times and the only time I got an answer was when your ass picked up by mistake.” Lexa curses. She hadn’t heard her phone at all. In fact she wasn’t even sure where it was.

“Lex, I don’t think I’m out of line by expecting to be able to get hold of you when we’ve had an argument. We did the clingy girlfriends thing a long time ago and it got old really fast. I don’t ask that much of you, but I was sad today at work and I wanted to speak to you, and you weren’t there.”

“Ny, I’m sorry, my phone-,”

“Were you with Clarke? I know neither of you had work today. Did she spend the day here?” Niylah had promised herself she wasn’t going to be jealous over Clarke Griffin. Even if they weren’t in a great place she trusted Lexa to be faithful to her. She didn’t want to stoop to this level but the words are coming out and she can’t stop them. They have hit a bump in the road of their relationship, which has for so long been completely smooth, the emotion is overwhelming her and tears are threatening again.

Lexa takes her hand. “Please don’t cry,” and she asks this just as much for herself as for Niylah because she is on the verge of tears as well.

“I can’t…” she gulps, “I’m sorry. I’m not just crying because I’m mad and upset with you. You shouldn’t have lied and you should have picked up your phone but I know you’re sorry and I…I’m just sad because something has been wrong between us for a while. We both know it. You might have been the first to act on it but I’m not oblivious. It’s just really hard…you know, when you have a relationship like ours you’re so sure you’re never going to have to know anything else, because you’re certain it’s forever. And when you start to realize…when there’s signs that that’s not the case, it’s so hard…it’s taken me a long time to come to terms with. I don’t want to blame you or myself. Relationships evolve; sometimes it’s for the better and sometimes it’s not.” She takes a deep breath. “Maybe we need to take some time apart.”

Lexa is nodding slowly. She understands and agrees but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel the pain that comes with every word.

“I think you’re right. But I want you to know something. I know you’ve always worried about not being enough for me, for the kind of life I lead. You’re always tearing yourself down and insisting that you’re nothing compared to me. I want you to know how wrong you are. You are so much more than my girlfriend and you deserve everything this world has to offer. I fell for you for a reason. I love you so much; I always will and that’s why I think this is the right decision. We’re doing what’s right for both of us.”

“Ugh, you always knew how to make a good speech,” Niylah wipes her nose and smiles sadly. “I think I’m going to go and stay with my mom for a while. I can afford some time off work. Maybe I’ll take John with me for a while and show her what a man your friend has made out of him,” she laughs.

“This doesn’t have to be forever. If we take some time apart and realize we’ve made a mistake then we can talk. I don’t want to lose you from my life completely,” she gently brushes a tear away from Niylah’s cheek with her thumb.

They talk a little longer and then Lexa does the dishes, trying to distract her mind from Niylah packing some of her things up in the bedroom. They hug for a long time by the front door, not needing to verbalize what they have to say. They know each other well enough by now. Then Lexa sinks down in a kitchen chair and finally lets the tears fall as she watches the last five years of her life walk out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Lexa and Niylah are over. That might have seemed to happen really fast for such a long relationship but sometimes when things have been going wrong for a while it just takes one little thing to tip it over the edge. I'm sorry it was sad, it was sad for me to write but ya know, all in the name of clexa. Niylah is my smol perfect child, on the show and in this fic, so rest assured she'll be happy in the end. Clarke and Lexa's internal voices are my favourite part to write and I also love writing Raven, Octavia and Clarke scenes. You'll definitely be seeing some more of those. And I've given up giving the chapters titles, it just seemed a bit naff and unnecessary.   
> Please kudos and leave comments if you liked it, or feel free to tell me anything you think could be done better. I have a full plan for this story now, chapter by chapter and I'm really enjoying writing. Chapter 9, that's all I'm gonna say ;) HMU on twitter @HARMONSANGEL or jedihaught on tumblr if you want.  
> \- Amy x


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok - so this was originally supposed to be two chapters but it got really long so I've split it. That means that this chapter isn't particularly exciting because all the great stuff happens in the next one. but bear with me. Filming has started, Lexa is feeling a bit better, and girls night is happening.  
> Story time: my laptop is 7 years old and a complete and utter piece of shit. It went nuts and deleted most of this right after I finished it. I was in tears for about half an hour trying to get it back and then it magically appeared and I didn't want to touch anything on the document in case i scared it off, so that's the reason for any mistakes.

**Chapter 6**

**2 weeks later**

“Directing and acting is exhausting,” complains Clarke, belly flopping onto the couch and going completely still. “Ahhhh…” she sighs in relief.

“I have a very simple solution for that. Stop backseat directing. Let me do my job and you’ll be less tired for yours,” Bellamy attempts to follow her onto the couch but finds Clarke has left inadequate space for his large self. “Move up.”

Clarke lifts her calves up and allows Bellamy to sit down before placing them back down in his lap. “I can’t be blamed for having brilliant ideas. Stop trying to squash my creativity.”

“You have _some_ brilliant ideas. Sometimes you just have to know when something doesn’t fit, like a spontaneous knife fight in the middle of a love scene,” he rolls his eyes at one of Clarke’s worst suggestions.

“You didn’t let me explain myself properly! That would have worked, I swear. Stop killing my vibe, _mom._ ”

“Oh, be quiet,” he ruffles her hair. “It’s going to be perfect.”

“It is, isn’t it? We really nailed the casting. I can’t wait to see how it all turns out.” Clarke sighs contentedly and shuffles around until she’s resting her head on Bellamy’s shoulder. Despite their jokey complaints to each other, they really are having the best time shooting the film. It’s everything Clarke had dreamed of and more. They have a great cast who all bring something unique to the project and the atmosphere on set is alight with enthusiasm. It’s such a contrast to The 100 and all the other projects she had worked on previously, and she’s really starting to feel like the industry is not just her job, but her passion. Just as she thinks she and Bellamy might drop off to sleep on the sofa, her phone buzzes and jolts her back to consciousness.

**Lexa: Ok if I come to set tomorrow?**

**Clarke: Of course! But only if you’re sure you’re ok?**

**Lexa: I’m ok**

**Clarke: Can I call you?**

**Lexa: The answer to that question is always yes**

Clarke dials her number, getting up off the sofa and heading into the bedroom away from a snoring Bellamy. She hadn’t seen Lexa since the day after their double date, but they had been communicating frequently on the phone, as always. Clarke had been worried when she didn’t hear from her for a few days, until Lexa called her and calmly explained that she and Niylah had broken up and she had been taking some time to herself. Somehow it didn’t come as a complete surprise to Clarke. She had sensed something not quite right between them for a while now, particularly from Lexa’s obvious reluctance to talk about her, and of course the incident with the lying about the phone calls. It was a shame; it was always a shame when a long-standing couple broke up, and all Clarke could hope was that they were both ok and that she hadn’t had anything to do with it. She had told Lexa she could miss the first few days of shooting if she needed the time off and she had been very grateful. Even though Lexa was one of the lead roles, they still had plenty of scenes to film that she wasn’t needed for. But truthfully, Clarke missed her. It was silly, but it was the little moments she felt incomplete without, like not being able to tell her in person about the funny couple’s argument she witnessed on the subway, or bickering about whether a latte was a real coffee. Although she tried to deny it, she missed the little flips in her stomach and the buzz of electricity where their fingers touched. Clarke had been forced, in the two weeks in which they hadn’t seen each other, to admit her crush to herself. Octavia’s words were like an indelible tattoo on the inside of her mind: _when you’re really in love with someone, it should be like there’s no one else in the world._ She knows she has to get Lexa off her mind, but it’s almost impossible when she worries about her 24/7 and craves the sound of her voice when they haven’t spoken in a while. She is practically unavoidable anyway, not with all the time they’re about to be spending together on their film. _You can do this, Clarke. You went after her for your film and now you have to deal with the consequences._ If she was a stronger person she wouldn’t be on the phone to her right now, enquiring about her day and doing everything in her power to make her laugh. Yet here she is.

Clarke concludes that she is not a very strong person.

***

**The next day**

“Hey stranger.”

Clarke whirls around at the sound of the familiar voice.

“Oh my god, Lexa, hey!” she throws her arms around her without even thinking about it, the only way she can think of expressing how much she missed her. “It feels like forever since I saw you.”

_We’re hugging? That’s a thing that we do now?_ Lexa is initially startled but wraps her arms around Clarke tentatively, struggling not to notice the softness of the blonde hair tickling her neck. Clarke is a few inches shorter than her and they fit together perfectly. She never wants to let go.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I’m feeling a lot better now,” she chuckles lightly as they draw apart.

“I’m glad you’re ok. You know I’m always -,”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks Clarke.”

“Sure. Well, we’ve had a great start; everyone’s been fantastic and we’ve covered a lot of ground. I thought this morning I’d take you to see everyone and get you all caught up,” Clarke grabs her hand and drags her through the set, gesturing wildly around her and talking at a mile a minute.

“-and your trailer’s just down there…”

“My trailer?” Lexa had not been expecting that.

“Did you think we couldn’t spring for a trailer for the great Lexa Woods?” Clarke teases, nudging her playfully with her shoulder.

“Oh, shut up.”

“You love it.”

_I do. I really do._

***

**4 days later**

“Cut!” Bellamy yells enthusiastically ( _he loves saying cut). “_ Great work, ladies. We’re probably done for the day but let me just go check the footage to be sure,” he congratulates Lexa and Raven heartily and heads over to the bank of cameras. Clarke, who is endlessly amused by how professional Bellamy thinks he is, slides out of her observer chair and heads over to her two friends who are chatting away happily on the stage.

“Clarkey!”

“Raven, I hate that name.”

“I refuse to take it out of circulation until you present me with a better alternative,” Clarke finds herself wondering, as she has many times before, how Raven manages to turn every simple sentence into something that could be out of a complex science presentation. “Now more importantly, how awesome was I on a scale of 1 to really fucking crazy awesome?” Raven continues.

“You were really fucking crazy awesome, and the cameras agree,” says Bellamy, striding over to the group. “You can all head out if you want. Unless anyone wants to go grab some drinks? My treat,” he says hopefully, secretly just wanting some company since he’s stopped seeing Finn. Clarke sees right through the guise.

“Aw, sorry Bell. Much as we’d love to distract you from your boyfriend woes, we have plans already. No guys allowed.”

Bellamy’s face falls.

“John’s over there. He might go with you. And ask Lincoln too. According to Octavia he’s at a complete loss whenever she goes out without him.”

Lincoln, who has arrived at that precise moment with Octavia in tow, looks indignantly at his girlfriend.

“That’s not-,”

“See you tomorrow, babe!” she cuts him off with a quick kiss. “Come on, ladies. Let’s get going. I’m starving and so ready for pizza.”

The four girls head towards the parking lot, all talking over one another about the day’s scenes. Lexa falls behind in an attempt to subtly tell her driver he can go, but nothing gets past Raven.

“Fuck, wait, why are we taking Clarke’s shitty car when Lexa has a fucking limo?”

“First of all, I’m impressed at how many swear words you managed to fit into that short sentence. And secondly, we’re taking my lovely and not at all shitty car because we’re going to the opposite side of town to where Lexa lives and it’s not her driver’s job to drive her friends around wherever they please.”

“Fine. But I insist on a ride at some point. I need some quality limo time to prepare myself for when I’m rich and famous and have my own.”

They bicker all the way back to Raven’s apartment, which had been selected for girls’ night as the only one without a male inhabitant. (Lexa’s was obviously an exception but Clarke had vetoed that as soon as Raven had suggested it, not wanting to invade Lexa’s expensive and impeccably organized home with a very overexcited and probably quite drunk Raven and Octavia.)

“Welcome to my humble abode,” says Raven as she throws the door open. “Don’t judge it; I’m a struggling actress,” she directs this at Lexa who rolls her eyes.

“I was one of those too, you know. I like it. It looks way more lived-in than mine.”

“We can swap if you want.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

Raven laughs as she rummages around in the kitchen cupboards and produces at least 5 different types of alcohol. “I hope you’re ready, kids.”

Lexa pales slightly at the sight of tequila sloshing round in one of the bottles. The last time she’d drunk tequila had been the incident with the spontaneous fan meet up in the middle of the night, where she couldn’t stop holding her boobs, and she’d been violently ill the day after. Before she can protest Clarke is pulling her down onto the sofa telling her to ‘stop worrying so much’ ( _but I didn’t say anything, how does she know me so well?)_ and Raven is already mixing some very dangerous looking cocktails.

“Raven used to be a waitress,” adds Clarke helpfully, as if that is supposed to make Lexa feel better about witnessing 4 different spirits going into one glass that’s intended for her.

“This one’s my specialty,” Raven smiles innocently as she brings the glasses over to the coffee table and sets them down in front of Clarke and Lexa. “Someone needs to order pizza before my stomach eats itself.”

“Already on it,” shouts Octavia from the doorway. “Yes, hi, can we get four large pepperoni pizzas please…”

***

One giant pizza, 2 sappy rom-coms and several cocktails later, Lexa is feeling much more relaxed. Raven is lying on the floor ( _she always seems to prefer the floor, why?),_ Octavia is curled up in the armchair, and Clarke is sprawled over half the sofa with her head in Lexa’s lap. Normally, open affection like this from Clarke would make Lexa extremely tense, but it is so hard to bring herself to care in this moment. She can feel Clarke’s breath ghosting across her stomach and the feeling of her fingers tracing the inside of her knee is driving her crazy in the best kind of way. The tequila is blurring all the lines of decency in her brain. She has lost track of Octavia and Raven’s conversation until now, and when she zones back in from her drunken haze she is surprised at the topic they’ve landed on.

“Why is it that alcohol always makes you want to have sex?” Octavia muses.

“It’s counterproductive, really, that they’re so closely linked. Alcohol leads to bad decisions, and bad sex decisions are the worst kind of bad decisions. I would like to make a formal complaint against whoever decided that drunkenness would equal horniness,” from Raven.

“That would probably be like…science…or some shit. And besides, I don’t think _you’ve_ ever had drunken sex and regretted it,” Octavia looks pointedly at her best friend.

“Well, that’s true. But like, if I’d got pregnant or an STI or something, or cheated on a relationship, then I might have.”

“That would require actually having a relationship.”

“Fuck off.” She throws a pillow.

“Ok, story time,” says Octavia, excitedly clapping her hands together. “Worst sex decision, or experience, or whatever. Any funny embarrassing story involving sex will do.”

Lexa groans. She hates game like this. Lexa’s history in this department is comprised of two very different, very separate sections. The first, when she was a teenager, contains some pretty hilarious but mostly mortifying stories and the second, after she became famous, is the complete opposite. She’s been in serious relationships for the best part of the last 8 years and it’s safe to say her sex life has definitely lost some…variation. She feels like she can’t win; they’re either going to judge her for sleeping around or for being too vanilla. Then again, she is in the presence of Raven Reyes. And everyone who’s ever met the girl knows she would be the last person to judge anyone for anything. Plus, Clarke knows most of Lexa’s funny stories anyway.

Raven is struggling to choose from her many options. “Ooh…what to pick…there was the girl who was obsessed with calling me princess and wanted me to wear a tiara and fairy wings, that was pretty fucking weird. Or the time on the toilet seat, which wasn’t as off-putting as you might think...oh wait, I know. The weirdest one has got to be when I sat through a guy yelling, like full-on angry screaming, at his dick for at least half an hour because he couldn’t get it up. I don’t really encounter that issue often, obviously, so it really sticks in my mind. He was so angry. It was fucking hilarious.”

“Must be so heartbreaking for them, when their little man lets them down,” Octavia is attempting to make another round of drinks but she keeps stopping to laugh hysterically.

“O, you’re going to fuck that up, let me do it,” Raven hops over the back of the sofa and rushes to the rescue. Lexa isn’t really sure what could go wrong considering they tasted like petrol in the first place. Then again, the taste got more pleasant with every new glass. Weird, that.

“Nothing’s more embarrassing than having your parents walk in. That has happened to me an _unnecessary_ amount of times, seriously,” says Octavia, sounding truly disgusted.

“Maybe you should have moved out of your parents’ house before you were 26 then, you loser,” quips Raven.

“Whatever,” she sticks her tongue out at her friend. “It was more entertaining when I was younger. They used to quite literally throw the guy out the front door. If they were feeling generous they’d toss him some of his clothes but that was only if they were lucky.”

“I’ve totally done that. Not for any particular reason, just because it’s really funny to watch their faces when they realize you’re kicking them out naked,” Raven sits back down, downs her drink in 2 gulps, and lets out the loudest belch Lexa has ever heard.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Clarke! You’re awake!”

“Yeah, funnily enough that ear-splitting eruption that just came from Raven woke me up.” She makes no effort to move from Lexa’s lap.

“We’re trading sex stories.”

“Well that escalated quickly. We were talking about decorating Octavia’s apartment when I fell asleep.”

“Yeah, but wallpaper isn’t nearly as interesting as sex.”

“A fair point.”

“Your turn.”

“I just woke up.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re insufferable, Raven. Ok, give me a second, let me think of something.”

Lexa thinks it might be time for Clarke to move. Clarke lying practically on top of her is one thing, but Clarke lying practically on top of her and talking about sex is probably more than she can handle. Add all the alcohol she’s consumed into the mix and it’s a deadly combination.

“Sorry, Clarke, I need a pee.” _Smooth, Lexa._

Clarke looks briefly unhappy about being dislodged, but her face lights up when she thinks of a good story.

Lexa sneaks off to the bathroom and splashes cold water on her face in an attempt to clear her head. This proves to be wildly ineffective and she briefly considers running a sinkful of cold water and just plunging her head into it. It’s the alcohol, she knows. That’s why she can’t get Clarke out of her head. _Well, you can’t get Clarke out of your head most days. The alcohol is just making those thoughts more inappropriate._ Raven was right, alcohol and sex drive are definitely linked, and it’s a curse. She wonders if maybe she should go home; just get some space from the girl who’s messing with her head. But no, overall she’s having a pretty good time and it would be rude to leave. It’s been nice getting to know Raven and Octavia more. They’re hilarious and clearly have absolutely no boundaries.

_Come on, Lexa. Get it together._

She heads back into the main room, where the three girls are crowded round Clarke’s phone, all piled onto one sofa. As she gets closer she can hear what sounds like John and Bellamy yelling nonsense down the line. There is a lot of background noise and Lexa can’t understand a word they’re saying. Clarke is trying to get some sense out of them.

“Bell, when John says _dancing topless on the bar_ , what exactly does he mean?”

“That’s exactly what he meansss, Princess!” Bellamy slurs. “We’re having soooo much fun!”

“Will you take care of him, please? You know he can be a little…out of control,”

“S’fine! We’re fine. I’ll make sure he gets home ok, I promise. And don’t worry, he’s not doing anything he shouldn’t be. I’m pretty sure we’re at a gay bar anyway, I can’t see any girls.”

Clarke laughs. “I’m not so worried about that. Just get home safe please, the pair of you.”

Octavia leans in. “Is Lincoln with you?”

“No, Lincoln went home. Your boyfriend is BORING,” Bellamy says, sounding like a 5 year old child who thinks boring is the worst conceivable insult.

“He’s not boring, just responsible. You just don’t like him because he’s my boyfriend.”

“Not true! I liked that Christian boyfriend you had…oh wait, I gotta go. John’s got more shots! Byeeeeee,” he drawls, and the girls hear a loud crack before the line goes dead, as if he might have dropped the phone.

“He only liked that boyfriend because he was against sex before marriage,” remarks Octavia.

“They sound like they’re having a good night,” says Clarke, chuckling as she scrolls through all the texts from John she missed whilst she was sleeping, none of which are legible.

Lexa is pleased because she thinks she’s avoided her turn in Octavia’s game. Sadly, and she should have noticed this by now, nothing gets past Raven.

“Your turn, lezzy Lexa. I for one want to hear some good girl on girl stories.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit goes down in this one. 
> 
> Don't judge Lexa for having a hoe phase when she was younger. I've had enough of slut shaming, both in real life and in shows. 
> 
> A reminder that although it might not seem like it, everyone is going to have a happy ending.

“ _Raven,”_ Clarke turns to her with a look that could kill.

Lexa just laughs. “Its fine, Clarke, I don’t mind. But I, uh, I don’t have any good stories, I’m really boring.” She notices the evil look on Clarke’s face before she opens her mouth.

“Clarke. Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh, come on, Lex. You weren’t always boring.”

“Thank you..?”

“Tell them about when your mom caught you with your hand -,”

“Clarke, stop talking.”

“No, Clarke, keep talking!” says Raven.

“Lexa, just tell them.”

“Fine.”

“Success.”

“I will kill you.”

“These stories are too good, Lex. The world needs to hear them.”

“Whatever. I was a hoe when I was a teenager, ok? It took me a while to figure out why kissing boys wasn’t any fun for me, and then I met this older girl who, uhm, showed me stuff, and then once I started I couldn’t stop. I used to sneak girls in through my window, bunk off school to go have sex somewhere…”

“ _Sometimes in public,”_ Clarke whispers.

“Thank you, Clarke. Yes, sometimes in public. It’s surprisingly easy to do when you’re two girls.”

“Amen to that,” says Raven. They all laugh.

“Anyway, yeah, I slept around a lot. There’s loads of embarrassing stories. One of the worst is when me and this girl used to sneak off to the locker rooms after soccer practice; we had found this closet that was totally perfect. Yes, the irony of the closet is not lost on me, Raven,” she rolls her eyes. “So we were in there this one time, butt naked, and we hear the sound of some people coming into the room. And this had never happened to us before; the school was usually completely deserted at that time. The closet didn’t have a lock and so we were just forced to stand there and hope they didn’t find us. We couldn’t even try and put clothes on because it would have made too much noise. So we’re stood there in dead silence for ages, and suddenly we figure out that the people outside are like, going at it as well. And then they open the closet door and it’s two of my teachers. Two of my teachers were trying to use the same closet I always had sex in to have sex in themselves, and when they burst in obviously we’re standing there completely naked, and it was just _so_ embarrassing for everyone. I’m pretty sure I had detention for the whole school year for that.”

Clarke is pissing herself, despite having heard that story before. Lexa’s cheeks have gone red and she’s almost as embarrassed as she was when it happened, but she sees the funny side of it as well.

“That is a side to you that I did not see coming, Lexa Woods,” Raven high fives her.

“We’re all entitled to a slutty phase,” Clarke is nodding. “Lexa’s was just particularly wild,” she can’t resist another opportunity to tease her. Lexa chucks her lightly over the back of the head.

“Fuck off.”

“Ugh, I have to brush my teeth, my breath smells like ass,” says Raven. “Then I think I might hit the hay. I said I’d meet Lucy early tomorrow to work on her car,” she says this entire sentence as a huge yawn.

“And by ‘work on her car’ you mean ‘fuck her in the garage’, right?” Clarke teases.

“Fuck off. It’s for money.”

“You’re having sex with her for money?!”

“No, you imbecile. I’m working on her car for money. The sex is for free,” she winks as she disappears into the bathroom.

Lexa also jumps up. “I need to get out of these jeans. I think they started constricting my air supply around 3 hours ago.”

A blissful silence falls over the living room. At least, it’s blissful for a moment, until Clarke turns and finds Octavia staring at her so suspiciously she thinks she may have committed a murder she has no recollection of.

“What’s up with you?”

Octavia considers her answer. “You’re sure there’s nothing you want to talk about, Clarke?”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Clarke knows what her friend is referring to, but it is so far back that it is quickly overpowered by more prominent thoughts that just want her to remain drunk, happy and naïve.

“Absolutely sure. The only thing I want to discuss is whether you’re going to have another cocktail with me.”

“I think you’ve had enough, Clarke,” laughs Lexa as she returns to the room in her pajamas. “Octavia, Raven wanted me to tell you that you need to come and spoon her..? She says not to worry because it’s just a thing you do,” she adds, rather confused.

“Oh, sure. I guess I’ll see you guys in the morning then.” Clarke completely misses the distrustful look she throws at the pair of them as she exits, but Lexa doesn’t.

Shaking it off, she steers Clarke away from the kitchen where she is staring intently at the tequila bottle and sits her gently down on the sofa.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” she asks, settling down on the mat Raven had laid out on the floor, assuming Clarke would have the sofa.

“Can we just talk for a bit?”

“Sure.”

“I can’t even see you. Come up here.”

Lexa sighs theatrically. “Gosh, you’re so _demanding._ ”

She sits down next to Clarke, fully intending to keep a safe distance between them, until Clarke is back in her lap without any warning.

“You’re squashing me.”

“I don’t care. I’m cold and you’re comfy.”

“Ok,” Lexa concedes. As if she could deny Clarke anything.

“Did you enjoy girls night? Even if it wasn’t as fun as ‘girls night’ when you were younger?”

“It was fun in a different way,” she smiles mischievously. “Raven and Octavia are quite a pair.”

“Yeah, they’ve been friends for like, ever. They like talking about inappropriate shit, apparently.”

“Well, so do we.”

“Touché.”

“Which reminds me, I didn’t get to hear your embarrassing sex story.” _Where did that come from? Apparently you’re feeling bolder than you were earlier. Maybe something to do with the last cocktail? Just go with it._

“Oh it’s nothing good, especially compared to all of yours,” she pokes Lexa in the abdomen as she teases and Lexa’s stomach lurches. “Just the gross story of how I lost my virginity.”

“I think by definition losing your virginity is pretty gross.”

“I’m not going to argue with that. Although you said yours was a ‘spiritual experience.’”

“You should have seen her. You’d understand.” Lexa freezes slightly, annoyed at her accidental implication that Clarke is attracted to women, but Clarke brushes it off.

“I believe you.”

Lexa gets the urge to stroke Clarke’s hair and decides to run with it. _She’s a touchy person, she won’t mind._

“Lex, can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal, and I’m probably only asking because I’m drunk, but then we talk about everything so hopefully it’s ok.”

“Sure…”

“How did you know you were gay?”

Ah, Lexa’s least favorite question _._ She goes with the sassy response she always uses.

“Exactly the same way you knew you were straight.”

“Except I don’t know that I’m straight. Not for sure.”

“Yeah?” Lexa somehow manages to muster a tone of casualness that she really doesn’t feel.

“I used to think that maybe I’m bisexual. I notice girls all the time. I’m attracted to them the same way I am to guys. I think boobs are…boobs are awesome…” Lexa is suddenly extremely invested in this conversation, despite trying to remain aloof. Her heart is pumping so much adrenaline through her veins she doesn’t even feel drunk anymore.

“For the record, boobs _are_ awesome.” _Unhelpful, Lexa. Just let her talk._

“Yeah, but now I’m not sure. I’ve always had boyfriends and…I don’t want this to come out wrong…the sex bit, I just find it hard to…imagine.”

“Ok…” Lexa murmurs, wanting this conversation to go on but simultaneously terrified of where it might be going.

“Were you scared? The first time?”

“Only as scared as anyone is the first time they sleep with anyone. Weren’t we all a bit grossed out by the whole thing to start with? I mean, looking at it impartially, no genitals are exactly nice-looking. Right?”

Clarke nods. She’s happy that Lexa is taking her question seriously ( _and that she’s stroking her hair, but that’s another matter_.) She had thought she might be defensive over Clarke bringing this up.

“You know what I think the problem is? Women’s genitals, and women in general to be honest, get treated so differently to men in the media. Like, why is it so acceptable for men to walk around topless but not for women? Boobs _aren’t_ a sexual organ. I mean, they might be fucking sexy, but they’re not a sexual organ. They’re just like men’s nipples, only adapted to breast-feeding, and yet we have to cover them up and men don’t. And everyone just plays into it because it’s the way it’s always been. Men don’t think there’s anything wrong with it; they’re completely blind to the blatant sexism of the whole thing. They try to make us feel like vaginas are gross. Think about all the crap you’ve heard about vaginas in your life, that it’s a bad thing if yours looks a certain way, that they smell, blah, blah blah. It’s all a load of crap. Do you know anyone who will just openly use the word ‘vagina’? I don’t either, and I don’t get it. And don't get me started on how guys can let their dicks get all sorts of out of control but god forbid a woman is anything less than hairless. I don’t know, I just don’t understand why people think it’s gross that a vagina is a vagina.”

Lexa isn’t sure where that rant came from, and whether any of it had anything to do with Clarke’s question. It’s mildly, if not very embarrassing, but luckily Clarke’s nodding and seems to agree. 

“Don’t freak out, ok? But would you…I mean I’d like to know, what it’s like?”

Lexa looks at her blankly.

“Will you tell me what it’s like having sex with a girl?” she clarifies bluntly. Clarke really has decided to throw caution to the wind here. She’s crossed all sorts of boundaries with that question and there are about 42 different alarms going off in her head, but she’ll be damned if she cares. She wants to know, so she’s going to ask, because she’s drunk and Lexa makes her feel even drunker. She’s seizing her moment.

“Why do you…why do you want to know about that?” Lexa is nervous, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Clarke to tell her she’s kidding and for the humiliation to kick in. But it doesn’t.

Clarke sits up. They are facing each other on the sofa, knees touching, a little too close for comfort. “I don’t know. I just really want to know and fuck, you’re the best person to tell me.”

Lexa feels like her flesh is on fire, like every word from Clarke’s mouth is an individual spark along her skin, and the flames are gaining momentum as they threaten to consume her whole.

“You want me to tell you…like, in detail?”

“Come on, Lexa. We share everything and I want to know. Be as graphic as you like.”

“Ok…” she hesitates. Lexa doesn’t even know where to begin with something like this, but she takes a deep breath and gives it a go.

“It’s like, even though in general they’re a little weird looking, when you’re into a girl, it’s so sexy. It doesn’t matter what it looks like, whether she’s tight or…you know, when you like her and you’re down there it’s…well, it’s indescribable. You know how I said my first time was a spiritual experience? Well, going down on a girl is always like that for me. Some girls like me, lesbians, bisexual girls, whatever, they aren’t all so into it, they prefer other methods, but I don’t know, for me it’s like an addiction. I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said that once I started I couldn’t stop,” she laughs, still really nervous, and checks to see how Clarke is reacting. She is, rather surprisingly, grinning, looking eager to hear more.

“What does it taste like?”

“Everyone is a little different. That's the same with guys and girls, but it keeps it interesting, I guess," she sticks her tongue out to emphasise her joke and Clarke feels a jolt straight her stomach, and below.

"Sometimes it’s kind of salty, but nice. When a girl is really wet for you, which in that situation you hope she would be, it’s the biggest turn on. It looks warm and inviting and at that point it doesn’t really matter what it tastes like, all you care about it how turned on she is, and how turned on you are. When a girl is moaning because of your face between her legs, I swear to God, there’s nothing hotter in the world.”

Clarke thinks she’s enjoying Lexa’s descriptions a little bit too much. She shifts a little and notices Lexa doing the same thing, causing them both to blush.

“And it doesn’t smell bad?”

“No, it smells great. Sweet and salty at the same time, and just…really hot.” She laughs at her lack of sophisticated adjectives. “It’s hard to describe.”

“I think you’re doing a pretty good job of it, to be honest.”  _Flirty much, Clarke?_

“It’s kind of something you have to experience for yourself.” _You did not just say that, Lexa._

 _I want to._ That thought takes Clarke by surprise, and she stops herself from saying it out loud just in time. She settles for just laughing.

Lexa wishes she’d let Clarke make more drinks. She’s way past turned on now and she needs a distraction. She makes the mistake of looking Clarke straight in the eyes and somehow it’s like seeing her in a whole new light. Her heart is beating faster than she previously thought possible.

“I guess I’ve just never really thought about it like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Girls. On some level I knew I was crushing on girls in a way that a straight girl wouldn’t, but no one ever tells you about queer relationships or queer sex. I didn’t understand it so I just figured it wasn’t for me. I wish it wasn’t so taboo. I bet there are loads of people who go their whole lives denying or not figuring out their sexuality just because they were never educated properly and I think that’s really sad. It was kind of like that for me. For a long time, I just figured my crushes were no big deal, like just having strong feelings for a friend, but with no sexual element.”

“And now?” Lexa tries to keep the hopeful tone out of her voice. _This is wrong. She has a boyfriend. You need to stop talking_. “I mean, how can it be a crush if you only think of the person as a friend?” _Why are you still talking?!_

“Oh, I don’t know Lexa, I kind of think of all people you might understand what I’m getting at here. I’m talking about friends that you’re desperate to see all the time, and when you can’t you just have to text them. You think they’re gorgeous and funny and smart and you love spending time together…”

Lexa shivers and hopes Clarke doesn’t notice. _This sounds awfully familiar…is she talking about us?_

“Late night phone calls?” _That was brave._

“Yeah.” _Fuck._

“And the sex part, hearing you talk about it just now, that was really fucking hot. I totally think I could do that. So now, I’m not sure it’s just a friend thing…”

Lexa is now 100% sure they’re not just talking generally. She’s also pretty damn sure that Clarke is leaning towards her and looking not so subtly at her lips. Her own eyes drop to Clarke's momentarily before she gets a hold of herself and relocates them to somewhere much less...enticing. She’s completely conflicted. The two halves of her brain are engaged in an aggressive civil war. On the one hand, she really wants this. If she’s being honest, she fell for Clarke right from the very start and she’s been kidding herself up until this point. It would be so easy to just close the gap and kiss her. She’s not in a relationship, so what’s stopping her?

_But Clarke is._

Her conscience kicks in and she pulls away, breathing hard. She is not that girl. Clarke is drunk, she’s not thinking straight and Lexa isn’t going to take advantage. Not only would they be hurting John, who clearly loves Clarke deeply, but she knows they would both end up hurting themselves too. The guilt would kill Clarke, and Lexa isn’t going to let that happen. She’s going to put a stop to this.

“I’m sorry, I, uh, I’m still messed up over Niylah. I'm not ready yet and I...I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff. I’m sorry-,”

“Lexa, it’s ok, don’t apologize. I wanted to know. I’m sorry if I overstepped -,” they are both hurt, mad at themselves for letting it get to that point. Lexa knows they’re not going to have any kind of responsible conversation about this now, in the middle of the night and both pretty drunk.

“I’m just going to go to sleep. We can talk about this later.”

“Yeah, of course.” Clarke is overwhelmed with guilt and anger at herself. _What were you thinking?_ She had gotten way ahead of herself and put Lexa in a terrible position, and now probably ruined their friendship as well. She watches Lexa sink down onto her mattress and decisively turn her back. Clarke notes that after what she almost just did, her first thoughts should be of John, her loving boyfriend who is alone in what is now their shared apartment whilst she’s out almost-kissing someone that isn’t him. Yet for some reason _(and Clarke knows the exact reason)_ the only person in her head is the one lying 6 feet away, curled in a ball on the floor. As they have every night since the premiere party, she knows green eyes will follow her into her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Firstly, a little apology. Someone pointed out to me that the scene in this chapter where Clarke and Lexa discuss lesbian sex read like it had been plagiarised from Unsung Heart by TabithaCraft. I want to make it very clear that I had absolutely no intention of plagiarising or of stealing anyone else's work. I wrote this scene off the top of my head, at work like I always do, and it wasn't supposed to be based off anything someone else has written. That being said, after it was pointed out to me, I did go back and read them side by side, and I did notice some very blatant similarities. I have read that fic, about 5 months ago, it is one of my favourites and I do remember thinking that was a great scene. I think on some level it must have stuck with me, and that became very clear when I read it again. I'm really sorry for that. If anyone else has noticed that, that's my explanation and my apology. I have since been back and edited this chapter. The gist is still the same but I have tried to rework it to the best of my ability so that it is entirely my work. Writing fic is a new thing for me but it really means the world and I wouldn't want anyone to think I was stealing ideas from other writers intentionally. I have apologised to the author of Unsung Heart, who was very understanding. (You should all go read her work by the way, it's phenomenal). I'm really grateful for the love this fic has got so far, and I really hope that continues, and hopefully the scene is just as good now as it was originally. All my love guys :)* 
> 
> And now the actual chapter notes...
> 
> Writing baby gay Clarke is my favourite thing to do. Please don't be mad at her. I know cheating is wrong. Sometimes shit like this happens and people deal with it in different ways. Also I know everyone always says this in fics but Raven is so fun to write. And 'i can see right through your bullshit' Octavia is life.  
> Hope you like this one! I really did, otherwise I wouldn't have cried when my computer tried to delete it :P HMU on twitter @HARMONSANGEL or leave comments if you like, i'm such a loser and i get this ridiculous smile on my face every time someone comments. Mistakes are mine!  
> Enjoy  
> \- Amy x


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls are hung-over, Bellamy is a cute little bean with commitment issues, Clarke tries to talk him out of it, and Clarke and Lexa have a very important talk.

**Chapter 8**

When Clarke wakes up the next morning, she is certain of two things. The first is that her stomach is making a valiant effort to exit her body, and it’s very uncomfortable, and the second is that she would rather be dead than deal with the consequences of her actions last night. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, she is saved from having to think too hard about the situation with Lexa by a painful and nauseating surge from her stomach that has her off the sofa and dashing to the bathroom. She spills the glass of water someone has laid out for her in her haste to reach the toilet, and is dismayed to find it is already occupied by someone who sounds just as sick as she feels. Luckily, Clarke is practiced in the art of being hungover from her party girl days, and tells herself if she can get through a morning on set playing a medical intern talking extensively about bowel movements feeling as sick as this, she can get through anything. She slides down the wall outside the bathroom and lets her head drop to her knees, attempting to send sympathetic vibes through the wall to whoever is in there, probably Raven. _I feel your pain; we’ll get through this together and then we’ll never drink again._

“Jesus, Clarke, what the fuck are you doing?! Get out of my way!” Raven comes careering down the hallway at full speed and attempts to body slam her way through the door only to discover it is locked. “No…”

Clarke would have laughed at Raven’s disappointment if she hadn’t been concerned that any sudden movements would dislodge the contents of her stomach. “Join the queue, Ray. Take a seat.”

“But if we’re out here, who’s in there?!”

“Octavia, I assume.”

“You assume wrong.”

They turn sharply at the sound of the voice in the doorway, and Clarke winces at the effect the movement has on her stomach. Lexa is standing there, gripping the doorjamb with so much force her knuckles are white and looking really quite ill.

“Raven, I’m never speaking to you again,” she hisses, attempting to take a step forward.

“I’ll apologize later, are you done?” she races past Clarke into the bathroom and slams the door behind her.

“Raven, no! I was here first, _damnit.”_ Clarke doubles over in pain, hair providing a convenient curtain to hide her face from Lexa.

Lexa wobbles back over to the living room to get Clarke some water. She tries to offer it gently but Clarke swats her away.

“I’ll be sick all over you.”

“You won’t. Just have a sip.”

“Did you put one out for me this morning?”

“Yes.”

“That was very sweet of you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I don’t know why I’m so sick, I didn’t even feel that drunk last night.”

“Me neither, but I think we were…more than we realized,” Lexa looks away almost as soon as their eyes meet, both remembering the events of last night but not yet ready to discuss them. Luckily Raven has impeccable timing, for once.

“All yours, Clarkey.”

“I hate that nickname, and you,” Clarke crawls into the bathroom and kicks the door shut behind her. She thinks she’s never been so relieved in her life to see a toilet.

“Seriously, Raven, what was in those drinks? I didn’t even feel particularly drunk and yet I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungover in my life,” Lexa quite liked Clarke’s idea of crawling because it required much less movement than standing up. She follows Raven back into the living area on all fours and then curls up by the window, enjoying the feeling of the cold glass against her skin.

“Shush.”

“ _Raven._ You owe us an explanation.”

“Stop yelling.”

“I’m not yelling. This is barely louder than a whisper.”

“Ugh, everything hurts. Are we even alive?”

“The drinks, Raven.”

“I’ll explain the magic of my specialty drinks when the thought of alcohol doesn’t make me want to throw myself off the balcony.”

“It doesn’t feel much like magic to me.”

“You make a good point.”

“I come bearing cokes!” Octavia’s voice, far too loud and chirpy for Lexa and Raven, echoes from the front door.

“Shush!” they say simultaneously.

“That bad, huh? Lexa, drink this. A cold coke is the best hangover cure known to man,” she offers her a bottle and Lexa eyes it warily.

“I don’t-,”

“Just drink it. You can thank me later. Where’s Clarke?”

The sound of a loud retch followed by a gut wrenching cough from the bathroom answers that question. “Ah,” notes Octavia. “Shall I go and hold her hair?”

“Probably. I can’t go near her or I’ll puke again myself,” says Raven, who is curled in such a small ball Octavia can’t tell where she starts and ends. “Ditto,” says Lexa.

***

About an hour later, Octavia has finally managed to prop the three invalids up on the sofa, each with a steaming mug of coffee in their hands. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen three people look so sorry for themselves.

“Why are you so fresh, anyway? Tell me your secret,” Raven accuses.

“I only had 2 of those monstrosities you made. I think you three had at least 5 each.”

“No way, every time I looked up you were making more.”

“I was making them for you guys. Well, Lexa mainly, because I don’t know her very well and she was a hilarious drunk.”

Lexa narrows her eyes and glares at Octavia. “This is all your fault.”

“Don’t blame me. Blame Raven and her ‘special recipe’.”

“Noooo, don’t blame Raven. Raven is innocent,” she whines, “and Octavia is boring. What happened to the O I knew at college? You would probably have gone out last night and you’d still be at the club now. Your boyfriend is a bad influence on you.”

“I grew up. He’s not a bad influence on me and we’re not boring, just sensible. I think when I got to 27 getting blackout drunk all the time just lost its appeal.”

“Well I’m only 26,” Raven huffs. “So it’s ok.”

“I’m never drinking again,” announces Clarke.

“That’s such a lie.”

“Ok, that’s probably a lie. I’m not drinking again for at least 2 days.”

“That’s much better.”

Clarke laughs (internally, because she’s still very fragile). She’s grateful for the new friends this film has gifted her with. Lincoln is an old friend of Bellamy’s so Clarke has known him for a while, but she only met Octavia about 6 months ago when they started dating, and they have only grown close since filming started. Raven is like a supernova, exploding into all of their lives and immediately drawing everyone into her light. She is hilarious, outrageous and completely without shame, and Clarke thinks everyone needs someone like Raven in their lives. And of course there’s Lexa, but that’s a whole other matter entirely…

“We should make this a monthly event,” suggests Raven.

“Definitely,” everyone agrees.

“Great,” says Clarke, “maybe next time I’ll skip the 5 ghastly cocktails and the murderous hangover.” _And maybe next time you could skip asking your friend to tell you about lesbian sex, and thoroughly enjoying it, too. Probably best not to say that one out loud._

“So!” she claps her hands (Raven and Lexa groan). “Who’s making bacon and eggs?”

***

**3 weeks later**

“You like someone! I knew it! Tell me everything,” Clarke’s eyes are alight with enthusiasm as she leans across the table, listening intently to Bellamy. It had been an extremely busy time on set; they were trying to fit as much as possible into every day so that they could be finished filming within the month as some of the cast had obligations to fulfill elsewhere. Clarke and Bellamy themselves had to get back to The 100 just after Christmas, so it had become a bit of a race against time to get everything perfect, but they were still confident they were going to manage it. She had asked Bellamy out for dinner to get a bit of peace and quiet away from the madness of the rest of the cast and crew. Ostensibly, the dinner was to talk directing, but as usual, without him really knowing how, they were talking about his love life. Again.

“I don’t _like_ him. You know I don’t do relationships, Clarke. He’s just a cool guy, and I like hanging out with him.”

Clarke notices the significantly decreased enthusiasm in his words than a minute before, and is once again aggravated by his need to close himself off. She doesn’t understand why he’s so opposed to having a relationship when she knows it could make him so happy. As usual, she pushes the issue.

“Bell, if you like him, just admit it. You don’t have to admit it to me but you should accept it yourself, and if you think he likes you back then you should tell him.”

He opens his mouth to protest.

“Hear me out. I know you. I’ve known you for a very long time, and I know what it looks like when you’re interested in a guy. Not just interested in having sex with him, but genuinely interested. I think you dismiss any feelings you have because you’re worried about what it means to have a relationship, and you push them away. I think that’s a huge mistake. You would be a great boyfriend and I know that because you’re a great friend. You’re caring, you’re interesting, you’re passionate about what you love, and you’re bloody gorgeous too.” He laughs. “I want nothing more than for you to find someone that makes you happy, and any guy would be so lucky to be your boyfriend. Will you at least give this guy a chance?”

“Clarke…you know I can’t do that. Chances are he isn’t going to want to hide, like I have to. I’m not ashamed of who I am, but I’ve worked really hard to get where I am in this industry and I don’t want 10 years of hard work to be overshadowed by what gender I like. That’s what would happen, and you know it. My achievements would pale in comparison to ‘hey, did you know famous actor and director Bellamy Blake is _gay?!_ ’ I want to be open about it and I want to have a relationship, but that has to wait until I’m out of the spotlight, and I’m not ready to be out of the spotlight yet.”

She nods sadly. “I get that. But honestly, you don’t know unless you try. Maybe this guy would be cool with keeping things on the down low. Promise me you’ll at least talk to him about it?”

Bellamy smiles but doesn’t promise anything. “Anyway, that’s enough about me. How’s John? I haven’t seen him on set in a while.”

“My mom gave him some time off work and he went to stay at his mom’s with Niylah.”

“Oh, right, I forget that your boyfriend is Lexa’s girlfriend’s brother,” he remembers, laughing.

Clarke rushes to correct him, trying her best to sound casual.

“Oh, they’re not…they broke up. Lexa and Niylah…broke up.” _Casual, right. Nice try Clarke._

“No way? They’ve been together forever…I would have thought the magazines would have been all over a breakup.”

Clarke hadn’t thought about that. Once again she had overlooked how much of a focal point Lexa was in the media.

“Yeah…that’s a good point. They must have not got wind of it yet. I guess until one of them is seen with someone else they would have no reason to suspect anything.” _Someone else like…you? Shut up._

“So how is she?”

“Lexa?!”

“Um…yeah? You guys are like best friends, aren’t you?”

 _Calm, Clarke. Stay calm._ “Oh, she’s fine, I guess…I mean, I wouldn’t really know, we’re not super close or anything…she has tons of other friends so I don’t know why she would tell me, we haven’t spoken in a while except, like, about the film on set…and stuff. Yeah, I don’t know, we’re not…we’re not close.” _That was literally the definition of not staying calm, you moron. Your chill is well and truly lost._

Bellamy is eyeing her suspiciously. “Ok.”

It was actually true that they hadn’t spoken in a while, other than on set. After girls night and the morning of the deathly hangover, Lexa had gone home whilst Clarke hung out with Raven and Octavia, and she hadn’t been able to muster the courage to text her after what had happened. When she saw her on set the next day she hadn’t really seemed in the mood to talk about it, and that had continued throughout the next few weeks. Lexa was a professional and her work was flawless, but Clarke couldn’t help but feel like she had broken something special between them. They hadn’t texted or spoken on the phone in a 3 weeks, which was a record for them. Clarke wonders how and even if she can fix it.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” Bellamy is looking at her nervously like he has something important to say. _Focus, Clarke._

“It’s about the film. I was looking over all of Raven’s scenes and she’s fantastic, so well suited to the role of Jessica it’s almost like we wrote the part about Raven before we even knew her. And you know how Raven is always dating someone new and always talking about sex and stuff, I thought it would fit the character quite well if we brought some of that into the movie. Talking about sex is pretty taboo as it is, and talking about queer sex is almost unthinkable in films. I want to change that.”

“So you want Jessica to talk about sex all the time like Raven? Fine by me, I think you’re right and it suits the character. She’s very open, like Raven.”

“Yeah, kind of. I’m going to add in a few lines of that nature. But I also wondered if we might add a sex scene between Jessica and Charlotte? That’s why I wanted to ask you.”

Clarke panics. Charlotte is Lexa’s character, so he’s asking if it’s ok with her if Raven and Lexa have a love scene together. _Why would he need my permission for that?_

 _“_ Why do you need my permission for that? I mean it’s fine, it’s a good idea, but you don’t always run your ideas by me so…why this one?”

“They’re both your friends. They might think it’s weird, and I wanted to ask you before I asked them. I mean they both sleep with women so there isn’t going to be any issues with homophobia or anything, but they’re friends and it might be an issue for them. You know them a lot better than me.”

_Oh yeah, of course. Paranoia much, Clarke? Of course he doesn’t know about what’s going on with you and Lexa. Not that there is anything going on with you and Lexa._

“Ah, I get it. No, I expect that will be fine. Lexa’s a professional, she’ll do whatever you ask her as long as she agrees it will add to the film. And Raven…well, Raven’s a horny bitch. She’ll probably love it,” she laughs, even though she feels slightly nervous at the prospect of watching the two of them get it on. It will all be for show, of course, but she can’t help but feel jealous that Raven will get to kiss Lexa. God, the two of them really need to talk.

***

Lexa sighs, glancing up at the clock. She realizes she has now been staring at her phone debating whether to contact Clarke for an hour, and it’s time to make a damn decision. It doesn’t feel right to her that it has been 3 weeks since girls night, ( _c’mon Lexa, just say it, since the night you almost kissed),_ and they still haven’t talked about it. Lexa is not a run away from your problems type of person (Titus notwithstanding); she is uncomfortable leaving a problem unresolved and it is time to resolve this one. She settles for a text.

**Lexa: Hey _(_** _Hey?! Really, that’s what you’re going with?)_

**Clarke: Hey : ) We should talk. I don’t really want to, but we should.**

**Lexa: Why don’t you want to?**

**Clarke: because I like to pretend my problems don’t exist wherever possible.**

**Lexa: so I’m a problem?**

**Clarke: That’s not what I said. I’m the problem. I’m calling you.**

Her phone rings 5 seconds later.

“Hello, Clarke.”

“Hello, stranger. Are you ok? Why do I get the feeling you’ve been sat on your sofa for an hour being angsty and staring at your phone? **”**

 **“** I hate that you know me so well.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“No, it’s not. I could never hate you.”

“So, I’m really s-,”

“Niylah’s back.” They speak at the same time and Clarke’s heart clenches. _Does that mean they’re back together?_ But Lexa is still talking.

“We’re not back together, or anything. She came round to get the rest of her stuff, and see how I’m doing.”

“And what did you tell her?”

_This is it, Lexa. Just tell her the truth. You’re not doing anything wrong by being honest._

“Honestly? I told her I’m not doing so great, because I’m really messed up over this girl I like. We’re really close and I think she likes me too, but she has a boyfriend and I don’t want to mess things up between them.”

There is silence on the other end for at least a minute. Lexa is surprised the tension doesn’t kill her as she waits for Clarke to answer. She almost wishes it would.

“Can I come over?

“No, Clarke, honestly, it’s a long way for you to-,”

“I’m coming over.”

***

The first thing Clarke does when Lexa lets her into her apartment is wrap her in a fierce hug. Her overwhelming emotion in this moment is that she’s sorry. Sorry that she asked all those inappropriate questions, sorry that she confused her, sorry that she wasn’t brave enough to apologize. She buries her face in Lexa’s neck and whispers it into the softness of her hair, so quietly that she might not hear it. But she does.

_Why is she sorry? Is that a sorry in advance because she’s about to break my heart and run back to her boyfriend?_

“Why are you sorry?”

“For getting us into this mess. For acting on our…connection and upsetting you. I don’t know exactly, but our not speaking for three weeks is my fault. I got way ahead of myself and it was completely inappropriate and now everything is really confusing.”

“Here, come sit down.” Lexa extracts herself from Clarke’s arms and leads her over to the sofa. This time they stick to sitting a safe distance apart. “It is confusing, I agree. But I know what I feel; I think it’s you that needs to do some figuring out. I want to help you, though. Why don’t you talk and I’ll just listen?”

“Ok. Sure…” Clarke folds and unfolds her hands in her lap repeatedly, trying to think of the right words. She can’t mess this up, or she’ll lose her.

“So, like I told you before, I’ve had times in my life when I’ve wondered about my sexuality. I was attracted to girls the same way I was to guys, but all the girls around me were dating guys and I fell into that. It was normal, it was easy and I didn’t see the point in trying to break out of that and change everything because I was very happy with my boyfriends. Because of that, I never experienced romantic attraction to girls because I never had relationships with them; it was just physical attraction, and even then I couldn’t, you know, get my head round the sex stuff, like I told you the other night. And then I met you. And straight away I was like, ‘wow, she is _so_ beautiful.’ I mean, you must know that’s the first impression you give, right? Anyway, you were gorgeous and so smart and compassionate and you completely proved me wrong because I thought you were going to be an airhead, as you know…” _Deep breath, keep talking._ “And suddenly you were my best friend and I couldn’t go a day without talking to you. Our phone calls, or when we would go and get coffee, that was the best part of my day. I didn’t get it and I couldn’t explain it to myself let alone anyone else. I thought for a while I was just really excited to have a new friend because we got on so well and you…you make me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever met. And then, when we stayed at your place…this is going to sound totally creepy…I went into your room to explain why I was stealing your sunglasses, and you were asleep and completely gorgeous and I was totally overwhelmed by it. It made me realize that I was attracted to you, and not just physically like I have been to women in the past, but totally, completely and utterly attracted to you in every way. And I tried to ignore it, I really did, but then I got drunk and you were there and I asked you all that stuff and sort of tried to kiss you, because apparently I’m a useless piece of shit who has no willpower.” She pauses to take a breath. “Is any of this making sense?”

“You’re not a useless piece of shit.”

“Well, that’s something,” they laugh nervously.

“Listen. Here’s where I stand. I like you. I’ve felt this way about you since that day I listened to you talking about your film. You intrigue me, you make me happy and you’re so beautiful it’s almost unfair. But I’m not going to cross any lines. Niylah and I, we weren’t in a good place for a long time. It wasn’t because of my feelings for you that we broke up, but you and John…you seem very happy together. A fool can see how much that boy loves you. I don’t want to come between you if you want to be with him.”

“I know he loves me. We’ve both changed a lot since we met, for the better, and we are happy. But I don’t love him. Truthfully, I had accepted that love was just something for a lucky few, that it was never coming my way. I didn’t think I deserved it.” She leaves the rest of that sentence unspoken: _but I think I could love you. You make me feel worthy._

“Clarke, you don’t need to make any decisions now. No one is pressuring you. If you want to break up with him, do it because it’s what you want, not because you think it’s what I want.”

Clarke sighs sadly. “Ok. Thanks for listening to all of that.”

“Of course. I think you’re very brave, you know.”

“Me? No way. Stupid and brash and way too keen sometimes, but not brave.”

“I think what you just said was very brave. Admitting your emotions is extremely hard for some people. I struggled with it a lot when I was younger. I couldn’t commit to anything or anyone because I was so scared of getting hurt.”

“I’m not scared of getting hurt, just that I might hurt other people.”

“Well then, you’re selfless. But still brave. Even the other night when you yourself out there like that, in your own strange, slightly horny way,” she smiles teasingly, “that took courage. It made me proud.”

“How do you always know the right thing to say?”

“I am told I have a way with words.”

Clarke smiles and takes her hand. “So, friends, for now? I don’t think I can take another 3 weeks without talking to you. Raven has started calling me ‘crabby Clarke.’”

“That’s so Raven.”

“I know. Any opportunity for a good nickname.”

“Friends is fine with me.”

“Can I stay tonight?”

That takes Lexa by surprise. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

“I’ll go if you want me to. But if I go home I’ll be eating Chinese and watching Greys Anatomy by myself, when I could be eating Chinese and watching Greys Anatomy here, with you.”

“Chinese and Greys Anatomy? You really know the way to my heart.”

Clarke raises one eyebrow. “I know I do,” she winks.

“Teasing like that will not be well received,” Lexa says, elbowing her playfully.

Clarke sticks her tongue out.

They spend the evening pigging out on junk food and discussing the merits of each individual Greys character. Clarke can’t help but point it out every time someone on the screen makes a medically incorrect statement, something she clearly inherited from her mom, and Lexa thinks it’s adorable. She tries to concentrate but can’t help her mind wandering to Clarke’s confessions. Even though discussing their feelings openly should have simplified things, she’s pretty sure it’s just further complicated things in her mind. Everything is in Clarke’s hands now, Lexa’s heart included. She sighs. _You might as well stop fretting about it. You’re in so deep you’re pretty much screwed whatever she decides to do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...that was some pretty heavy stuff, right? Just give Clarke time. She's very confused and mad at herself, and I think both the girls deserve some kind of award for resisting each other to be honest (I know I wouldn't be able to resist either of them). 10 points if you spot the Elycia reference by the way (comment if you do). Writing hungover OT4 was so much fun and I was, not going to lie, drawing on my own experiences. It's a true story about coke by the way. Try it next time. It cures any hangover, I swear down. Also Bellamy likes someone (very exciting!) and all will be revealed soon...  
> Hope you liked this one :) I wrote it in one sitting at work (They really need to give me more to do, but hey I'm not complaining).  
> Hit me up on twitter @HARMONSANGEL if you're liking the story, or comment (I reply to every comment because I love them so much).  
> Enjoy  
> \- Amy x


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a little mini chapter. It's important and I felt it would go better on it's own than with all the stuff I have planned for the next one, so I'm just going to publish it alone.  
> Clarke is a lovesick idiot and they are both powerless to resist. This is the tough stuff now, but everyone will find their happiness in the end.

Clarke is cold when she wakes up. In fact, that’s a huge understatement. She’s freezing. There are goosebumps on every visible inch of skin and her toes have turned ever so slightly blue. Her knees are tucked up to her chin and her arms are wrapped around them, but it isn’t stopping her from shivering violently. She wants to sit up and assess her surroundings; establish why she is asleep without any form of cover in New York in November, in an apartment that apparently has no form of sophisticated heating system, but she thinks any movement will invite a fresh wash of cold air over her and she doesn’t fancy that. It’s still dark outside so she figures she still has time to sleep and tries to focus on drifting off instead of the hypothermia she thinks she might be in the early stages of. She has just found a comfy and slightly warmer position when she hears a rustling from beside her and cannot resist opening her eyes again for a look.

Lexa is asleep in a similar curled up ball at the far end of the sofa, looking significantly comfier and more peaceful than Clarke feels. They must have fallen asleep in the midst of their Greys Anatomy marathon, because the TV is still alight with the standby screen, casting a bluish hue over Lexa’s sleeping features. Clarke realizes that one or both of them must have been making a conscious effort to keep their bodies well and truly apart, because on Lexa’s outrageously large sofa she wouldn’t even be able to touch Lexa if she stretched her legs out fully. In her sleepy, cold, not fully aware state of being, she decides that needs to change, and shuffles down towards her.

She is hesitant at first, just curling up slightly nearer in attempt to steal some of her body heat. If she had given it any real thought she would have just got up and gone into the spare room, where she would have been infinitely warmer and much less out of line with Lexa. But alas, she is not thinking particularly deeply and is keen to keep movements to a minimum. There is probably a part of her, on a subconscious level, that wants to know what it’s like to sleep with Lexa in her arms, sharing her space and warmth, and this is probably the part that is trumping all rational thoughts at this moment.

She shuffles up further, wiggling herself into the space between Lexa and the back of the sofa, and gently curls herself around her sleeping form, trying not to wake her. She lets out a deep, contented sigh at the feeling. Her skin is deliciously warm and Clarke’s goosebumps vanish as she presses her legs to the back of Lexa’s and wraps her arms around her front. She tries not to notice that Lexa’s tank top has ridden up again to expose a toned, tanned expanse of skin and Clarke has to stop herself from edging her hands higher. The voice in her head is going ballistic, and she is reminded of the myth of the angel and devil on her shoulders. The angel is yelling at the top of its lungs, screaming that she has effectively just stuck two middle fingers up at the considerate and responsible lines they drew last night, whilst the devil cares about nothing but how warm and happy she feels. She buries her head in the soft blonde waves at the nape of Lexa’s neck and tries once again to join the land of the sleeping.

Lexa stirs.

“Clarke.” It is barely a whisper, and Clarke wonders if she can pretend she hasn’t heard. She tries to even out her breathing to feign sleep.

“You’re not asleep. What are you doing?”

“Your apartment is _freezing.”_

“And there’s two perfectly good beds with duvets right down the hall. I don’t think ‘friends’ should be spooning like this.”

“We’re not spooning. We’re just lying really close together. I do this with friends all the time.”

Clarke is speaking directly into the skin at the back of Lexa’s neck, and now she’s the one with goosebumps. _Focus._

“This is literally the definition of spooning, Clarke. I can feel your crotch pressed against my ass.” That was inappropriate and Lexa knows it, but she is past the point of caring. She had done all she could last night after Clarke’s admission, and it had seemed to have the desired effect, until now. Clarke is the one crossing lines here, not her, and she doesn’t know what else she can do. She could of course get up and sleep in her own bedroom, but she’s not invincible. If she’s honest, having Clarke pressed up against her back, their skin touching almost everywhere from their feet to their shoulders, feels really fucking great. Great in a way she hasn’t felt in a very long time, and she is powerless to resist. She isn’t going to take this any further, but she doesn’t think she has it in her to make Clarke move, and she doesn’t know if that makes her a bad person or if it just makes her human.

“Well that’s…nice of you to notice,” Clarke chuckles.

Of course she’s noticed. And so has every other part of her body, particular in her stomach and below.

When Lexa doesn’t say anything else, Clarke pushes.

“Would you like me to sleep down the hall?”

Lexa lets out a deep sigh and Clarke feels it reverberate in her own chest. The goosebumps are back, despite the fact that she doesn’t feel cold anymore.

“No, Clarke, I don’t want you to sleep down the hall. Weirdly enough I very much like having you close like this, but we both know it’s wrong.”

“I’m going to talk to John.”

“You shouldn’t decide that now. Your judgement is…impaired by the situation.”

“Seeing as we’re being honest with each other now, I’m going to tell you that I’m pretty sure my heart had decided that from the moment I met you. I didn’t really stand a chance.”

Lexa doesn’t reply to that. She can’t.

“Why is your apartment so cold, anyway?”

“I’ve always liked it a bit cooler. I guess I’m just used to it.”

“This isn’t cool, this is one polar bear away from the arctic.”

“You’re such a drama queen. Here,” and as a way of shutting her up, Lexa turns around so that they are now entirely facing one other, noses almost touching. She drops her head so that she doesn’t have to look into Clarke’s eyes, which somehow appear even bluer in the strange light the TV is giving off, and wraps her arms around the blonde girl, pulling them impossibly closer and tangling their legs.

“If you’re cold now then I don’t know what’s wrong with you.”

“Cold is not my issue right now.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Ok.”

And they do, pushing the concerns of tomorrow away and just reveling in the moment, holding each other like they never want to let go. Clarke genuinely doesn’t. She has fallen so hard and so fast, and never in her life has she had to deal with overwhelming feelings for another person like this. She has always been wary of falling so quickly for someone and has tried to always be measured in her relationships, encouraging her friends to do the same. It is only now that she realizes you don’t always have a choice in the matter. She has known Lexa for about 3 months and her mind is already planning for their future, completely without her permission but completely unstoppable at the same time. She feels terrible that they have let this happen, let it get to this point when she is still in a relationship. _Don’t kid yourself, Clarke, Lexa has been a saint, this is all on you._ She tries to console herself with the fact that she has not actually, specifically cheated on him, but even she knows that’s bullshit at this point. They might not have physically kissed, but the feelings she has for someone who is not her boyfriend are completely unacceptable, and she is aware of that. She needs to end things with John, and soon. Thinking about how much it’s going to hurt him breaks her heart, but not as much as it would break his if she was to continue this whilst keeping up the pretense with him. She has to be honest with him and with herself and even if people are going to get hurt, she knows deep down it’s the right thing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate my baby. I know she made a pretty irresponsible choice here, but she's in love and everyone should understand we don't all make the wisest choices when we're in love. Pretty soon they're going to be free to be together and they can stop angsting over each other. I hope you like this bit. I debated whether it was a necessary scene but it felt very cute and personal, and showed how Clarke's subconscious knows a whole lot more about her feelings than she does. Let me know what you think. (@HARMONSANGEL on twitter or jedihaught on tumblr or comment on here) :)  
> \- Amy x


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven and Lexa get it on (on stage), Lexa needs Clarke to control herself, and John gets his heart broken. 
> 
> I wrote this in a huge rush, trying to get it posted before I left work, so there's probably quite a lot of mistakes. I'm gonna go back and edit later when I have a bit more time. 
> 
> Enjoy

“So, I have something to tell you,” says Clarke, mouth full of cereal.

“Charming, Clarke. Did your mother never teach you any manners?”

“Oh yeah, loads, but I grew up with the idea that I had to do the complete opposite of whatever my mother said.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

They are sat at Lexa’s kitchen table having breakfast, having slept in way too long in their more than comfy position on the sofa. They are both due on set today but Lexa doesn’t have any scenes until the afternoon and Clarke has been banned by Bellamy from attending unless she specifically has to shoot a scene. In his words, her interference has become too much. Clarke was originally miffed but is now actually glad for the free time and she genuinely does want him to be able to explore his directing without her influence limiting him. She thinks John is on set too today as he has the day off work. She likes that he’s hanging out with her friends more; he needs good influences in his life and he might need the support when she…well, when they break up.

Lexa is looking at her impatiently, holding a spoon and attempting to be threatening.

“What is it you want to tell me? I thought we covered all the heartfelt confessions last night.”

Clarke hits her gently. “It’s not related to that. Well, maybe it is, I don’t know. Bellamy is going to ask you and Raven to do a love scene. He ran it by me the other night at dinner.”

“Oh? And what did you tell him?”

“Well, I said I thought it would be ok. I mean, you’re a big star and I didn’t think that kind of thing would bother you. You’ve done lots of love scenes in the past…”

Lexa raises one perfect eyebrow.

“Not that I’ve watched them. I mean I have, because I’ve seen all your work, but not like, paying special attention…or anything,” she mumbles. She is aware that her nerves have basically just given away the fact that she has watched them all, multiple times, and definitely paid special attention. “Ugh, I’m a mess. You make me a mess, you know that?” she kicks her lightly under the table but actually just ends up wrapping her ankle around Lexa’s calf.

“ _Clarke._ Seriously.”

She withdraws her foot. “Sorry.”

“The scene is fine by me as long as it’s fine by Raven.”

“Of course it will be. Have you _met_ Raven?”

“True. But it won’t…um, bother you…at all?”

Clarke smiles, loving and simultaneously hating how Lexa could practically read her mind. The truth is it probably will bother her. She had never been a particularly possessive person, but maybe that was because she’d never had deep enough feelings for someone to be jealous. She could see pretty clearly that was all changing now, but she wasn’t going to be weird about it. Clarke knows how Lexa feels about her and she has no reason to be jealous of a scene in a film between two great actresses. _Acting, that’s all it is._ Plus, she really didn’t have any right to be jealous when she’s the one still in a relationship. Last night’s panic over ending it with John washes through her again and she tries to squash it.

“No. I mean, maybe a little. You know I’d like to kiss you, and I’m a little jealous that Raven gets to before me, but it’s your job. The job I hired you for. Besides it’s my fault I can’t kiss you anyway. So no, I’m going to be a mature adult about this. I probably won’t even be there; Bellamy won’t let me come to set unless I’m shooting a scene myself.”

“I would like you to be there,” Lexa says bashfully, looking so sincere Clarke feels her heart skip a beat.

“Then I will be there,” she nods and takes Lexa’s hand. They eat the rest of their breakfast and converse lightly, a brief respite from baring their souls to one another. Lexa can’t help but feel like a regular couple, eating breakfast, reading the newspaper and talking about the weather while she draws little patterns in the palm of Clarke’s hand. She hopes that one day, when they’ve resolved the mess they’ve got themselves into, that her fantasy could become a reality.

***

**2 days later**

“Clarke!” she feels strong arms wrap around her from behind as she gazes out onto the sound stage, and whips around to find herself face to face with John, who kisses her quickly on the lips. She turns her head slightly and he gets the corner of her mouth, but he doesn’t seem to notice. _Act normal, you’re not going to make a scene on set with 100 people around you._

“Where have you been, babe? I’ve barely seen you the last few days!”

“I know, we keep missing each other. You’ve been working late and leaving early.”

“I’m sorry. Someone’s got to put bread on the table,” he winks, knowing full well Clarke makes 5 times as much money as he does. She smiles half-heartedly.

“Are you done for today? Want to head home a bit early?” He looks so hopeful and her heart falls.

“No, I’m sorry J, I’ve got to stay for this last scene we’re shooting today.”

His smile never falters. “Oh, ok. What scene is it?”

She debates lying but sees no point to it. “Lexa and Raven, well, Charlotte and Jessica, are doing a love scene.”

“Awesome. Does Bellamy want you to stay and help direct?” His innocence and naivety almost make the whole situation more painful. It would be easier if he was more suspicious and less blinded by his love for her.

“Yeah…something like that.”

“No worries. I’ll see you at home, then. Don’t be too late back,” he kisses her cheek and with that, he is gone.

She raises her eyes to the sky and blows air gently out of her nose, trying to concentrate on taking deep breaths. The angel and the devil are now in agreement about her plan of action, nodding enthusiastically from both shoulders. _You’re doing the right thing. You don’t love him the way you- well, that’s a thought for later. But just because it’s going to hurt him doesn’t mean it’s not the right decision._  

She heads back over to the sound stage where Lexa and Raven are being prepped for their scene. Raven hadn’t been able to contain her enthusiasm about the scene when Clarke had spoken to her this morning. She was convinced it was going to make her career.

“Honestly, Clarke, everyone’s going to know my name after this. I’m going to be that hot actress chick that had sex with Lexa Woods.”

“You’re not really having sex with her though.” _Keep your tone neutral._

“Well no, of course I’m not, but this is the closest I’m ever going to get to it. And who wouldn’t be excited about it, I mean have you seen her? I’m pretty sure even completely straight girls would be pumped for this. Wouldn’t you be excited to have sex with her?”

_Oh, Raven. You have absolutely no idea._

Clarke had nodded impassively and let Raven ramble on. Truthfully, she couldn’t wait for this day to be over.

She catches Lexa’s eyes from across the stage where an overenthusiastic makeup artist is powdering her shoulders and upper chest. Lexa had seen John and Clarke’s little exchange and could sense the change in mood that had come over her. She tries to convey what she wants to say with her eyes as she obviously can’t go over there and hug her like she wants to. “ _It’ll be ok. I’m here.”_ Clarke smiles and her and mouths ‘good luck.’

Overall, the scene goes pretty well. They get the whole thing in two takes, which is probably for the best as Clarke is pretty much unable to tear her eyes away from Lexa’s almost naked body the entire time. Raven is great as well, hitting all her cues and not letting the enthusiasm she’d expressed earlier get in the way of making it a good scene. Clarke and Lexa had laughed once on the phone about how strange it is to do a love scene on camera, to be told exactly when you have to take each item of clothing off the other person, and sometimes reprimanded for kissing too heavily or not heavily enough. This is no exception. She chuckles with everyone else when they get a button of Lexa’s top stuck on her hair and have to start again. She keeps her jealousy and lust under control, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t notice them. Lexa has a phenomenal body, which she knew already from watching her other movies, (and from having it wrapped around her own on the sofa), but seeing her up close in nothing but skin coloured underwear is something she was not prepared for. She desperately wants to be the one running her hands up her sides, brushing her fingers around her breasts and up the insides of her thighs. She imagines what it would be like to kiss her neck, sucking lightly and leaving her mark as she travels lower, hearing nothing but the sound of her breathing, desire and lust evident in every sound and movement -

“Clarke!” She is shaken from her explicit daydream by Bellamy’s face appearing in front of her own, far too close for comfort. As she zones back in she notices he is also shaking her by the shoulders.

“God, Princess, you’re miles away. What did you think? Wasn’t that great?”

“Uh, yeah, totally great. I, uh-,”

“Why are you being so weird?”

“Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind. I’m just going to go…” without giving him a proper explanation she sidesteps him and makes her way over to where Lexa and Raven are standing. Even though Lexa’s proximity increases the heat in her body even further, she also feels immediately more relaxed just being near her. She slaps them both on the back in a congratulatory gesture.

“That was great, you guys! Kind of got me wishing my character wasn’t so wrapped up in her boyfriend so I could get in on the fun,” she jokes and Raven laughs. “You wish, Clarkey.”

Lexa is quiet, just trying to hide a smirk because she knows the kind of effect that will have had on Clarke. She imagines it’s something similar to how she feels every time Clarke decides to wear one of her extremely short, cleavage enhancing black dresses. She has never been someone who enjoys playing games, but she has to admit the feeling of making Clarke jealous is intoxicating, and she hopes she doesn’t forget the look on Clarke’s face when she was kissing Raven any time soon. _What is happening to me?_ She wonders. _She brings out a whole new side of me and I can’t even bring myself to care._

Raven excuses herself to go talk to Octavia and Lincoln, probably to ask if she was magnificent or simply outstanding. Clarke sees her opportunity and drags Lexa into a hallway just off the main stage so that she can say what she really wants to say. They stand a safe distance apart, backs against either wall, both unable to stop smiling.

“That was…you were… _wow.”_ Clarke’s articulation has failed her, but she can’t really blame herself after watching half naked Lexa doing a sex scene and wow pretty much sums up what she wants to say anyway.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Lexa smirks.

“Oh, I definitely did. As long as you didn’t enjoy yourself too much.”

“Jealous much?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Sounds like more than a little.”

“Have I told you how much I can’t wait to kiss you?”

“You might have mentioned it.”

“You’re a bad influence, Lexa Woods. I don’t think I’ve ever had a dirty daydream before. Not with so many people around.”

“As much as I would like to hear the intricate details of this ‘dirty daydream’ you need to stop talking because you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what again?”

“Pretending like we’re in a relationship when we’re not.”

Clarke’s face falls. She was just trying to have a bit of fun.

“Sorry, I guess I was just overwhelmed by watching you -,”

“And you know I’d like to talk about it with you. But I can’t do this when you haven’t spoken to him yet. It’s not right.”

Clarke starts to feel panicky. _Why did she have to go too far, again?! Now she’s upset Lexa as well as what she’s about to do to John._

 _“_ Lexa, I’m sorry. I am going to talk to him, as soon as possible. I’ve barely seen him in the last few days and the time has to be right. You said you wouldn’t -,”

“I said I wouldn’t force you to breakup with him if you didn’t want to, and I didn’t. You told me you wanted to, you told me you were sure, and I don’t mind waiting a while for you to find the right time, but you’re making this really hard for me, Clarke. You’re acting like we’re already a thing, like you don’t still have a boyfriend. Being friends while you sort everything out with John is fine with me, but we have to act like it, like _friends_. Do you know how hard it is for me when you’re touching me all the time, trying to talk dirty to me in the middle of set, where anyone could hear us?!”

Clarke thinks that at this moment, after all the days of managing to hold them off, she is finally about to cry. And she doesn’t want to do that here, she doesn’t want to make Lexa feel as if this is her fault when it’s not, but she can’t help herself. They spill over and she turns her head, trying desperately to hide it.

But Lexa notices, of course. Lexa always notices. She pulls Clarke towards her for a gentle hug, stroking her hair.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t lose my temper like that. I know this is confusing for you.”

“No, you don’t need to be sorry. You’re right.”

“I think maybe we…we just need to learn to control ourselves a bit better, until you figure things out.”

Clarke isn’t sure whether she imagines the press of warm lips to the top of her head, but regardless the feeling melts her insides.

“I’m being a coward. There is no right time to break his heart. I’m going to do it.”

“Like I’ve said before, I don’t want you to feel any pressure from me. He’s important to you and you should be able to make the decision in your own time. I just think I’m going to need some…space, in the meantime.”

“Ok,” Clarke sighs between quiet sobs. “Ok.”

***

She stays on set pretty late that evening, long after Bellamy has shut all the lights off and headed to the bar and Octavia and Raven have passed her en route to the parking lot, talking a mile a minute, with Lincoln following dutifully behind. Long after Lexa’s bodyguard has chivvied her into the limo and driven off into the rain. Her overwhelming thought is that she needs to stop feeling sorry for herself, but also stop blaming herself. This is nobody’s fault. She didn’t ask to fall for someone else, she didn’t ask to be so overwhelmingly attracted to Lexa she couldn’t think of anything else, she didn’t ask to have to break John’s heart. It’s not her fault, but it is her responsibility, and it’s time to assume that responsibility. She pushes herself up from her seated position on the cement, shaking her legs out as she makes her way to her car. Lexa told her she thinks she’s very brave and it’s time to try that bravery on for size.

***

She notices immediately that something is different in their apartment. The lights are dimmed, there is candles everywhere and right in the middle of their kitchen area is a fold out table with her favourite flower, lilies, as the centerpiece. The table is set for two. Of course. Their sixth month anniversary is today. Obviously Clarke had forgotten and obviously, John hadn’t.

He is standing over the kitchen counter with an apron on over a smart shirt and jacket, and she notes that for the first time without her dressing him, he has managed to make himself look rather presentable. Everything about this is breaking her heart a little further, but she reminds herself of her earlier words. _There will never be a right time for this._

“Happy 6 months, babe,” he embraces her and tries to kiss her, but she ducks her head and this time, he notices.

“You ok?”

“Yeah…I, um, I need to talk to you about something,” the tears are threatening again, having left her alone for a grand total of an hour and a half. Concern overwhelms his features.

“Sure, of course, come sit down…” he turns off the stove and leads her to the sofa, sitting beside her and waiting patiently.

“Oh god, I…uh,” her tears are doing that thing where they cut off her air supply, and she’s forced to take at least 3 deep breaths between every word. “I don’t know…how to tell you this…”

“Hey, Clarke, listen to me, whatever it is, it’s going to be ok. I’m here, and I love you.”

She smiles sadly. Although she has known it for a while, he’s never actually said that to her before. She hopes with all her heart that he can find happiness after this.

“Are you pregnant?” The question takes her by surprise and she almost laughs before swallowing it down when the reality of the situation hits her again. _Now, Clarke. Get it over with._ She gets her breathing under control and steels herself for what she’s about to say.

“No, no I’m not, uh, pregnant, don’t worry. John, I, I really care about you. You’ve made me so happy for the last 6 months and I know I’ve made you happy too. We’ve really changed each other for the better, you know? I am so glad I met you. You’re actually really inspiring, and I will always remember having you in my life, but I, uh, I think I need to…end this.”

His face falls slowly as he catches on, and he drops his head to his hands, shaking it slightly, as if in denial.

“I’m so sorry, really I am. You’ve been so good to me, and it just shows what a kind heart you have. You could make someone really happy, J, I really believe that, I just don’t think…it’s going to be me.” She isn’t sure whether to keep talking or whether she will just dig herself further into a hole. She decides to just wait for his answer.

“Oh god, Clarke, I…I wasn’t expecting this at all. I don’t know what I’ll do without you. I love you…” they are both crying now, all John’s pretense of being strong having gone out the window.

“You don’t need me to be this amazing guy, J. He was always there, you just needed a push in the right direction. My mom loves you and she will have you at the practice as long as you want to stay there, and I-,”

“Is there someone else? I can’t think of another reason. Is that it, am I just not good enough for you?”

Her heart plummets. This is exactly what she was afraid of; that he would take her having met someone else to mean that he wasn’t enough for her. She so desperately wants to lie and tell him that there’s no one else, that it’s just what’s best for her to move on, but she has no intentions of hiding her relationship with Lexa and he’ll find out sooner or later. She doesn’t want him to be able to hold lying against her.

“There is someone else, but I promise you it’s nothing to do with you ‘not being enough’. You’re such an amazing guy. You deserve so much, and I know you think you changed for me but it’s important that you don’t rely on someone else for your self-worth. Please love yourself, J. Some girl is going to come along and you’re going make her the luckiest girl in the world.”

“Like I couldn’t do for you, right?” He shakes his head. “Who is he? Is it someone I know? Is it Bellamy?”

“Bellamy’s gay, John, you know that. And so is…” she hesitates. This moment is about John, about trying not to hurt him too much, but it’s also about her being honest and this is a big deal for her. She wonders if coming out gets easier the more times you do it, if the nerves are less nauseating every time you tell someone new. “And so is the girl I…the girl I like. I’m bisexual.”

He looks at her, assessing her face for some kind of trick, and then just nods, almost like he isn’t that surprised.

“It’s Lexa, right?”

Clarke is shocked that it is that obvious, but really, she shouldn’t be. If she had been spending the equivalent time with a guy and talking about him incessantly in the same way, she would have expected that someone would take notice. After her confession it’s only natural that John would guess it correctly. She nods.

“Is that why she broke up with my sister? For you? God, Clarke, I hope you can see how messed up this is.” Those words hurt her. She looks down. “Not, messed up because you like a girl,” he rushes to correct his mistake. “Just, messed up that she’s, you know, _my_ sister’s girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend,” she corrects. “But Niylah and Lexa didn’t break up because of us. They’ve been in a bad place for a while, which I'm sure Niylah shared with you. Lexa and I might have prompted them to have a conversation about it, but it had been in the works for a while and it was time. I don’t want you to blame Lexa for hurting your sister. They were both ready to move on.”

He nods slowly, understanding but still not wanting to accept it.

“I don’t know if want to know the answer to this, but I have to ask. Have you…been with her? You know, cheated on me?”

He sounds so small and scared, Clarke is suddenly so glad that she can answer this honestly.

“Of course not, J…we haven’t kissed or...or anything else. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Well thank you, I guess, for being honest., but I'm not going to pretend this is easy for me. It really hurts. I mean its one thing when there are signs that a relationship is going downhill, but I feel like this is coming out of nowhere.”

“I-,”

“I guess I should have seen that you don’t love me the way I love you. Im sure there were signs. Damnit, I’m so stupid…”

“John, stop. Please don’t beat yourself up over this. You don’t have any fault in it. I really, genuinely want you to be happy…”

There is a long silence. He is still crying, but seems to come to terms with it slowly.

“I want you to be happy, too. I guess it’s just hard that I can’t be the one to do that.”

“I still want to be friends,” she cringes as soon as she says that, realizing how cliché it sounds.

“Yeah, well, that’s what they all say.”

She nods. He is understandably angry and hurt, but hopefully in time that will fade. Clarke honestly doesn’t want to lose him completely. He has been getting along so well recently with most of her friends and she hopes that will continue. She wonders where to go from here.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No, you stay. Grab your things, if you want. I’ll clear all this up later…” he gestures to the elaborate dinner setup he had laid out, looking even more crushed. “I’m going to the bar,” he says decisively. He strides towards the door, still in his suit but not seeming to care.

“John? I really am sorry. And please be careful.”

“Guess what, Clarke? You just gave up your right to tell me what to do.” He slams the door behind him.

Clarke sits back on the sofa and breathes out for what feels like minutes. God, that was hard. It damn near broke her to see him like that, but she feels better knowing she no longer has to lie to him, or anyone else. Her concern now is that he’s going to do something stupid at the bar, and she wonders if she could get away with texting Bellamy to look after him. It’s worth a try, she decided.

**Clarke: If you’re at Grounders and you see John, will you make sure he's ok? You know how he can be...something happened but I’ll let him tell you if you see him.**

**Bellamy: I am at Grounders and sure, will do. Hope everything’s ok.**

Luckily her best friend knows what she’s referring to. In John’s world, something stupid doesn’t just mean getting too drunk and making a fool of himself, but more severe issues like drugs, bar fights, and run-ins with the police. He’s impressed everyone in his life so much over the last few months; she doesn’t want to be the cause of a relapse into old behavior.

She busies herself tidying up John’s apartment and packing up the things of hers that had taken up residence there. When she finally gets home after what feels like the longest day of her life, she curls up immediately on the sofa and does what she’s been itching to do for the last few hours. She calls Lexa.

When Lexa picks up the phone to muffled sobs, she guesses immediately what has happened.

“Would you like me to come over?”

“I’m a state. Could we just, talk on the phone for a bit, like we used to?”

“Of course. Do you want me to talk and you can just listen?”

“That would be great.”

“So, I had a funny argument with Titus today…”

As Lexa babbles on, just filling the silence so that Clarke can relax and listen to her voice, the crying eventually subsides and is replaced by murmurs of agreement and the occasional quiet laugh. Clarke loves how she knew exactly what had happened and exactly what she needed. It is the first time in her entire laugh that she has found someone so in tune with what she’s feeling, someone who just really _gets_ her. She is so grateful for her, for this magical, beautiful girl on the other end of the phone who sat across from her in a booth at a premiere party and changed everything. All her life, she has felt like everybody wants something from her, but Lexa has no agenda. She wants nothing more than for Clarke to be happy, and as she half listens to Lexa’s stories she realizes how easy it would be to fall in love with her. Perhaps she already has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is such an enthusiastic little baby gay, she's literally me and I love writing her so much.   
> And dun dun duh...Clarke and John are no more. Our girls are now free to be together...I wonder what's going to happen next...


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy is a cutie in love, Lexa is a proper gentlewoman, and Clarke finally tells Bellamy what he's known all along.

Bellamy sets his hardly touched beer back down on the bar and casts another glance around the room in search of John. He is starting to worry now; it’s been an hour and a half since Clarke texted him and there was still no sign of him. He knows the boy’s history all too well through Clarke and is less than happy at the image of him wandering the streets alone, upset and possibly drunk. He decides he can at least go and look for him, seeing as he’s not really interested in finishing his beer anyway.

The weather outside is living up to its winter in New York reputation, and as he trudges through the grey sludge on the pavement small flurries of snow are whipped around him in the wind, burning his exposed skin with their ice cold sting. He takes his phone out momentarily to text John again, but his thumbs go numb almost immediately and he shoves his hands back into the deep pockets of his coat. _It’s pointless, anyway,_ he thinks. _John clearly doesn’t want to be reached._ As he continues his mildly unpleasant journey, covering 10 or so blocks and looking into all the bars he’s heard of, his mind wanders to what Clarke had said to him at their recent dinner. ‘ _You don’t have to admit it to me but you should accept it yourself.’ ‘You dismiss any feelings you have because you’re worried about what it means to have a relationship.’ ‘Any guy would be so lucky to be your boyfriend.’_ He knows deep down that she’s right, that he’s scared of admitting the truth to himself for fear of getting hurt. There’s nothing wrong with the way he lives now, with casual relationships and having fun, but at the same time he’ll be 29 soon and he thinks maybe he is ready for something more serious. The problem is finding the right guy, or more accurately, finding out if the right guy feels the same way.

He pops his head into another dingy bar, scanning the multitude of greasy heads playing cards or talking obnoxiously loudly, and his face falls as once again there’s no sign of who he’s looking for. He thinks it’s kind of ironic: he’s spent the last 10 years turning guys down in favor of playing the field, and now he’s found a guy who makes him want to settle down and he can’t fucking find him anywhere. He chuckles to himself wondering who is less subtle about their ‘secret’ infatuation, him or Clarke, and decides it’s definitely her. She’s completely clueless, thinking he wouldn’t notice the way she and Lexa act around each other. Right after they met Lexa for the first time he literally couldn’t get her to shut up about her new ‘friend’. He suspected it then, but had it pretty much when they started spending time together on set, whispering, giggling, gazing longingly at each other across the sound stage. She left her phone at his place one time whilst she popped out to pick up food and he watched it buzzing furiously every 10 seconds with a new text from ‘Lex’, until she returned and grinned like an idiot for the whole night after checking them. He had to play dumb, though. It was something she had to come to terms with herself and he knew she’d tell him when she was ready. Truthfully he had always suspected Clarke was bisexual, and had never thought it was going to last with John. He’s pretty sure Clarke’s text means she finally found the nerve to tell him about her and Lexa and he’s relieved, to say the least. Not just because he’s now free to be open about his feelings for John, but because it was silly for Clarke to keep up the pretense with him when she’ll clearly be so much happier with Lexa. He knows John is very much in love with Clarke and he has no intentions of swooping in like some gross predator. He needs time, and that’s something Bellamy can give him, but he’s not giving up the hope that his feelings aren’t completely one sided.

He’s just about to give up and go home when he, quite literally, runs into exactly who’s looking for. He’d been marching down the street with his head down to shield his face from the cold and hadn’t even seen the lonely figure zigzagging towards him through the show until they crashed head on. He catches him as he falls, noting that he’s not even wearing a coat, and has to refrain from wrapping him up in his own when he sees the look of utter desolation on the other man’s face.

“Bellamy…?” says John, blinking hard and trying to focus, not trusting his eyes not to play tricks on him after all the whiskey he’s just consumed.

“Hey, buddy. Are you ok?”

“Um…no, not really. Clarke -,”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me. Just let me get you somewhere warm, ok?”

John just nods his agreement and lets Bellamy half carry, half drag him back to his apartment where, of course, Clarke is nowhere to be seen. He goes straight for the whiskey that he keeps at home, but Bellamy persuades him not to and sets a tall glass of water down next to the sofa instead. John just sits there, staring at the wall, trying to get his head in order.

Bellamy stays there, waiting. Whether he’s waiting for John to talk, or fall asleep, or just to be ok isn’t quite clear to him. All he knows is that he’s not going anywhere.

***

**A few days later**

“Clarke, I’m not going to kiss you, so you can stop trying. You’re not subtle at all.”

Clarke attempts her best adorable pout.

“Why not?! I’m dying here.”

“I already told you, we’re doing this properly. I’m going to take you out on a date, buy you dinner, hold your hand, do all the things people normally do when they start dating, and _then,_ maybe we can talk about kissing.”

“As charming as that is, Lexa, I really don’t see the point. You want to kiss me and I want to kiss you, what’s the point in waiting?”

“The _point,_ Clarke, is that I have manners. I’m not just in it for the sex like I was when I was younger. I’m going to treat my girl right.”

Clarke’s heart swells at those words. _Her girl. Lexa’s girl._ She very much likes the sound of that. But she’s still miffed about the no kissing thing.

“Ok…well then how soon can we go on this date?”

“Ah, so, that’s the bad news…”

“Not being able to kiss you was already bad news.”

“Well then, I have more bad news. I have to go away tomorrow for a couple of weeks, to LA for some meetings. I’ve put Titus off for too long. He’s pulling his non-existent hair out.”

“TWO WEEKS! Lexa, I _can’t_ wait two more weeks. Do you think I have some magical powers of restraint or something?”

“You can, and you will,” she reassures, stooping down to drop a kiss on Clarke’s grumpy, scrunched up nose.

“Wait, if you’re going to LA tomorrow, what about tonight?” her face lights up.

“I, erm, I said I’d meet Niylah tonight, if that’s ok with you. It’s just, John knows about us and I’d really like it if she could hear it first from me, not him or anyone else. But I won’t see her if you don’t want me to.”

“Ugh, you’re disgustingly considerate and caring. Go see Niylah, then go to LA. Don’t worry about me, I’ll just be here, alone, dying of impatience and deprived of kissing you…” she moans dramatically, sitting back in her chair. Lexa gets up and plonks herself down in her lap, wrapping her arms around her and resting her forehead against Clarke’s.

“I’m sorry I have to go away.”

“Me too. I feel like I finally got you to myself and now you’re jetting off without me.”

“I’m not ‘jetting off’ for good though, am I. For the first time in a while I have a very good reason to come back to New York,” she kisses Clarke’s hand. “You’ll be alright on set without me?”

“Set will miss you.”

“I don’t think ‘set’ will find my absence too much of a burden. You, on the other hand…”

“Fine. _I’ll_ miss you. Just promise me I can kiss you when you get back.”

“Of course. Right after I take you on a date.”

Clarke huffs in frustration and Lexa leans in closer to whisper in her ear.

“Trust me, I’ll make it worth the wait,” she says, employing her best sultry, sexy voice before jumping up and heading for the door.

“Oh my god, Lexa, that is _so_ not fair!”

***

**That evening:**

Lexa looks up at the sound of the door opening and smiles as Niylah makes her way over, waving to Lexa’s bodyguards as she goes. It occurs to Lexa that she might need to update them on her love life, which seems pretty weird but possibly necessary for when the paparazzi find out about Clarke. Poor girl is going to get instantly more famous and not in a good way. That’s definitely a discussion they need to have.

She stands up to greet Niylah, genuinely happy to be seeing her again in a friend capacity. She thinks her break away from New York has done her some good because she looks noticeably less tired and has a newfound enthusiasm about her.

They talk about work for a while, Niylah admitting it has been nice seeing less of Titus recently. Lexa wishes she could say the same. It really might be time to stop being lazy and find herself a new manager. She’ll have to tolerate him on her trip to LA and then perhaps she’ll muster up the courage to tell him exactly where he can go.

She is just about to gather courage of a different type and tell Niylah about Clarke, when she surprises her by beating her to it.

“So…I’m kind of seeing someone new,” Niylah mutters, a little tense waiting for Lexa’s answer.

Lexa raises her eyebrows, shocked but in a good way.

“You are? That’s great, Ny. Really, I’m happy for you. Do I know her?”

“I think you might have met once or twice, but it’s very new so we’re keeping it to ourselves at the moment. I just wanted you to know that I’m moving on and…you know, check that that’s ok.”

Truthfully, Lexa hadn’t expected her to move on so fast. Not because she thought she’d be hung up over her, but just because she knows Niylah is a very independent person and she thought she might value some time alone. Nevertheless, she’s pleased by this turn of events. She wasn’t lying when she told her that she deserved the best, and hopefully this girl or someone else in the future can provide her what Lexa couldn’t.

“Of course it’s ok. I don’t know if it’s related to this girl or if it’s just getting a change of scene but you look really well, Ny, and whatever’s making you smile like that, you need to keep doing it, or seeing it, or…whatever.” They laugh. “And if you need me to beat her up for hurting you at any time, you just say the word. If John hasn’t already offered, that is.”

“He has, of course. You know what he’s like,” and Lexa thinks for the first time maybe she actually does know him, not as the unreliable inconvenience of Niylah’s little brother but as a brave, genuine and hard-working guy who cares about the people around him. She realizes she’s going to have to apologize to him at some point for stealing his girlfriend, which reminds her…

“Have you spoken to him? In the last few days, I mean?”

Niylah looks vaguely confused. “John? I haven’t been able to get hold of him, actually. He’s gone back to ignoring his phone, which is a bit concerning. I think maybe something’s happened between him and Clarke…”

Lexa’s well-prepared speech escapes her and she just sits there in silence, looking sheepish.

“Unless…the something that’s happened between him and Clarke is…you?”

She doesn’t know how to answer so she just nods. She scans Niylah’s face for traces of anger but finds none, only understanding and the vague hint of a smile.

“I should have seen that one coming. You never could resist a pretty blonde,” she laughs, and Lexa does too, surprised at how much better this was going than expected.

“You have to know, we weren’t -,”

“I know you didn’t cheat on me, Lexa, you’re far too good a person for that. But I could see right from the start how crazy you were about her, and honestly this doesn’t surprise me at all. I think you’ll be great together. I just hope my brother is ok.”

“Me too. I think he might be staying with Clarke’s friend Bellamy. I’ll find a way to check up on him,” she tries to reassure her by reaching for her hand. The gesture is friendly, comforting and not at all romantic, and as they sit there for a further hour chatting like old friends Lexa is overwhelmingly grateful for how well things have turned out between them. Whoever said you can’t be friends with an ex?

_John Murphy, probably._

***

**5 days later:**

Lexa has been gone for 5 days and Clarke is going out of her mind missing her. Poor Bellamy wants her back almost as much as Clarke does just so he can get her off his back. She bothers him constantly, asking him to call her, to text her, to just generally amuse her and he can’t believe she still thinks he doesn’t know about the two of them. She must really take him for a fool. This is not like his parents who were so blissfully naïve they let him hide away for hours in his room with boys ‘playing videogames.’ Bellamy is gay, he has great gaydar and he really wishes Clarke would realize that and just tell him the truth so she can stop making up stupid excuses for why she’s acting so strangely. She finally persuades him to meet her for coffee one day, dragging him away from set where he has been running around like a headless chicken trying to get everything finished in time whilst simultaneously taking care of John. When he’s not at work, Bellamy makes sure he’s on set, sat with Lincoln or Octavia watching them shoot, because he doesn’t want him to be home alone. It also means he has to keep Clarke away from set even more than usual because he doesn’t want John to have to see her, which in turn means Clarke is going completely stir crazy in Lexa’s absence. _Where did I sign up for this mess,_ he wonders, rubbing his forehead as he heads into their favorite coffee spot. He gives a cursory wave to the fans sneaking along behind him, apparently thinking they’d gone unnoticed, and knows with absolute certainty there is going to be pictures of him and Clarke online by tomorrow with all sorts of ridiculous captions. _Oh the joys of having fans. Maybe I should just come out; at least it would kill all of these ridiculous rumors about Clarke and I._

Her face lights up when she sees him and he gives her his best bear hug, trying to convey his message through a simple display of affection. _Please tell me you’re bisexual and dating Lexa so that we can go back to having regular conversations and I can get on with my life._

He sits down with a heavy sigh, brushing his long, curly hair out of his eyes where the sleet had stuck it to his face, and turns his gaze on Clarke.

“Hey, Clarke.”

“Hey, Bell. How’s John?”

“He’s…ok. I rescued him for a whiskey induced haze at the weekend, and he’s been staying at mine because, and I quote, ‘everything about my apartment reminds me of her’. It’s been a week and I’ve watched every Star Wars movie at least 3 times.”

“Even the ones with Natalie Portman?”

“Yes, even those.”

Clarke looks concerned.

“He will be ok, I promise. He just needs time.”

“I feel really terrible for him, but it was the best decision for both of us in the long run.”

“Why did you do it, Clarke?” Obviously he knows the answer to this but he is trying to goad her into telling him under the guise of actually wanting to know.

“Well, actually, that’s why I wanted to meet you…” _Yes!_ Celebratory bells start tolling in his mind. _It’s happening!_

“I met someone else, and now we’re…dating. I’ve really fallen for this person and it wasn’t right to lie to John.”

“And who is… _this person?_ ” he asks, playing along.

He watches her chewing her bottom lip and suddenly feels guilty for being impatient with her. He’s been out and proud to his family and friends for a long time now, but he hasn’t forgotten what a big deal this could be and how hard it was to say the words out loud. He smiles, trying to encourage her with his eyes.

“It’s…Lexa. Yeah, Lexa. Wow, that _was_ easier the second time around.”

He grins.

“You don’t look surprised. Did you know? Did John tell you?!”

“John didn’t tell me anything, Clarke, but you two are _so fucking obvious._ That first day I met her, when we went for coffee, you couldn’t stop staring at her lips, for Christ’s sake, and then when I asked you about her sex scene with Raven there was absolutely no doubt about it.”

Clarke is flabbergasted, and doesn’t have a clue what to say.

“It’s cool. I mean, it’s great, actually. You two are like lovesick teenagers; if it wasn’t so perfect it would be pretty nauseating. And hello, she’s the hottest thing in Hollywood right now, and _you’re_ dating her!”

She stares at him in disbelief, genuinely astonished that he’d guessed.

“Shut your mouth, Clarke, that’s not ladylike.”

She shuts it.

“Listen, I’m happy you told me. Coming out is a big deal, don’t let anyone take that away from you,” he hesitates. “Do you know if you’re going to, like, tell the media? You know, be open about it?”

She considers this. “Yeah, I mean as long as it’s ok with Lexa. I don’t want to hide. I don’t think anyone should have to. I mean, unless that’s what they want,” she rushes to add when his face falls ever so slightly.

“You know, I actually think you’re right. It might be time for the world to know how much of a flaming homo Bellamy Blake is,” he chuckles.

“Bell, that’s great. Good for you. And if it helps, I know many homos who are much more flaming than you,” she winks.

“True, Lexa is probably way more of a flaming homo than I am.”

“She is not! Lexa hates stereotypes, and so do I.”

“I bet she would wear a suit if you asked her to, though,” he teases.

“She totally wouldn’t.” _She totally would._

Bellamy looks carefully at Clarke as they continue their banter, glad they are back to normal with no secrets between them.

Well, apart from the one where he has a huge crush on her ex-boyfriend, but that’s a secret for another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like this one. Yes, as most of you guessed, Murphamy is ON. Sorry that this chapter was quite Bellamy heavy, but he's cute to write as a smol gay and don't worry, your fix of clexa is coming very very soon....
> 
> Pleeeeeaseee comment (I have resorted to begging now) and suggest anything you'd like to see, because I've had some really good ideas in the comments so far that have actually gone into the story. Lots of love! (As always, @HARMONSANGEL on twitter or jedihaught on tumblr).  
> \- Amy x


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is LOOOOOOONNGG, and it is all Clexa :D Clarke meets Lexa at the airport and they finally get to go on their date...enjoy!

**Clarke: You landed 25 minutes ago, why aren’t you here yet :(**

**Lexa: We’re waiting for Sam’s bag :(**

**Clarke: Which one is Sam again?**

**Lexa: The really big and burly one**

**Clarke: They’re both really big and burly**

**Lexa: Sam is bigger and burlier than Elliot**

**Clarke: Ok. Why can’t you come through without Sam?**

**Lexa: I’m not allowed in a public place without both of them :(**

**Clarke: I’ll be your other one**

**Lexa: Clarke, you would be a useless bodyguard.**

**Clarke: I beg to differ. I don’t want anyone touching you except me. I think that would make me a rather good bodyguard.**

**Lexa: Thankyou…I think. Anyway I’m surprised YOU haven’t been accosted yet**

**Clarke: I’m hiding in Starbucks. But no one ‘accosts’ me anyway. I have nice fans, not crazy ones.**

**Lexa: Everyone has crazy fans. Sam’s bag is here.**

**Clarke: See you in a minute! :) :) :)**

Clarke locks her phone and stands up, making sure her beanie is in place and concealing as much of her face and hair as possible. She isn’t really one of those stars who cares about people taking candids of her ( _besides,_ she thinks, _I’m not really a star),_ but this is more for Lexa’s benefit than her own. At any given moment in public there are at least 10 cameras on Lexa, and snapping her with an unfamiliar girl by her side will garner even more attention than normal. Of course, Clarke could have just met Lexa later when she arrived home, but she couldn’t resist. The temptation of giving her a hug almost as soon as she landed was too strong. Clarke isn’t really bothered about the world knowing about their relationship, in fact she’s quite proud, but Lexa insists that for now it’s better to keep her identity under wraps. When they ‘come out’ as a couple, Clarke is going to need to be prepared for all the media attention she’s going to get, some of it less than positive, and Lexa’s not in a rush to put her through that.

“Just keep your back to every camera,” she had instructed Clarke on the phone the night before.

“How am I supposed to keep my back to _every_ camera?”

“Just…hide behind Sam and Elliot. No one takes pictures of them.”

“But I am allowed to hug you, right?”

“Yes, Clarke, I think I can allow that. Just look at me the whole time and not at any of them.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

She manages to spot Lexa before the paparazzi do. They are waiting at the smaller, private exit towards the far end of the terminal, but Lexa and her team have clearly conspired to deceive them and exit through the main gate with everyone else. She looks so tiny between the huge forms of her bodyguards, wearing a plain dress and coat in an attempt to blend in as much as possible. Even Sam and Elliot are dressed casually in shirts and jeans, their earpieces well concealed and their faces impassive as they march Lexa and her luggage towards the exit. Of course, Clarke doesn’t have any problems picking her out of a crowd and rushes towards the little group at full speed, wrapping Lexa in a bear hug and almost knocking her sunglasses off in the process.

“Hello stranger,” Lexa grins, and for a moment she forgets that they are in the middle of a crowded public space, surrounded by people who are inappropriately invested in her personal life. All she can think of is Clarke, Clarke, Clarke.

“I missed you,” Clarke replies, burying her nose in Lexa’s soft, blonde waves. “You smell nice,” she adds.

“It was only two weeks,” Lexa laughs, but whispers softly so that only Clarke can hear that she missed her too. She tucks some flyaway strands of her hair back into her beanie and wishes desperately she could kiss her. She has to firmly remind herself that there will be a right time and place, and this isn’t it.

A loud and not so subtle cough from Sam causes them both to whip around, Clarke immediately ducking behind Elliot when she remembers Lexa’s advice about the cameras.

“Excuse me Ms. Woods, but if you’re ready, we should get going,” he informs them awkwardly, eyeing the paparazzi who have spied them and are now bustling down the terminal at full speed.

“Of course. Lead the way, Sam.”

Clarke follows them out the double doors and round to where the limo is waiting, keeping her head resolutely down and her eyes fixed to the floor. She can’t really see where she’s going, only the purposeful footsteps of Lexa’s bodyguards ahead of her, and so she’s pleasantly surprised when a warm hand slips into hers and squeezes reassuringly.

“So, Clarke, would you like to go out with me sometime?” Lexa says under her breath. Clarke can’t contain the laugh that escapes.

“You’re such an idiot.”

“How’s tonight?”

Clarke chances a glance upwards for a moment and doesn’t regret it when she gets to experience the adorable way Lexa is looking at her. She is desperate to kiss that perfect smile right off her face, but consoles herself with the knowledge that she will be able to, tonight.

“Tonight is perfect.”

***

“You know we’re spending the evening together, right? You don’t need to spend the whole day here.”

“I’m well aware that I don’t _have_ to, but I want to. I put this day in my calendar as Lexa day, so I’m going to spend it with you. Unless, you know, you want me to go…” Clarke looks up at her coyly, not expecting for a second that she is going to tell her to leave.

“Obviously I don’t want you to go, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to spend the day with me. I have plenty to do and I figured you would need to be on set.”

“Everything’s pretty much done on set; Bellamy’s got Raven and Seth reworking some of their stuff, but I’m not needed. Plus, I have a theory that he’s keeping John there in secret and that’s why he never wants to me to visit.”

“Oh. Well, it’s your film too, aren’t you a little upset that he won’t let you near it?”

“No, it’s fine. I kicked ass in all my scenes and got a little directing experience in too before he shut me down. He’s the one that wants to be a director; this is his moment and I don’t want to hijack it. Besides, I still get to go to all the parties and that’s the most important thing,” she winks.

“What about getting to date one of the cast members, is that not important?”

“Hmmm…it’s on the list somewhere, but you know, not a priority.”

“I hate you.”

“You don’t.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re very welcome to.”

“ _Clarke!”_

 _“_ You set yourself up for that one.”

“You have a very dirty mind.”

“Trust me, you haven’t seen the half of it. Yet.” Clarke sips her coffee and gives Lexa her most demure look over the top of it. Lexa’s mouth twists up into a smile and she takes a bite of toast to distract herself from the implications of Clarke’s words.

“So, if you’re done being inappropriate, do you have any preferences as to what we do today?”

“Hmmm…well, I know this really cute gallery downtown and I’ve been thinking how much I’d like to take you there…”

Lexa’s face drops and Clarke notices immediately. “Or not, if you don’t want to. I thought you liked art?”

“I do, it’s uh, it’s not that. It’s just, we kind of have to stay here…I thought I was going to be in on my own all day doing admin stuff so I gave Sam and Elliot the day off. I’m sorry I’m so boring.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re not boring. A day here is cool too; if you’re sure you don’t want to take me up on my bodyguard offer?”

“As wonderful as that sounds…” Lexa sasses, pulling Clarke towards the sofa and setting their coffees down on the side table. “How would you feel about more Greys Anatomy? I’m sorry, I’m really quite obsessed.”  

“I would feel quite positively about that. If you promise that I can take you to the gallery when it’s my turn to organize the date?”

“If you think yours can top mine, sure.”

“Ugh, such unfortunate wording. You make it really hard for me to resist a good pun, you know that?”

“I will try harder, I swear.”

“I think you should embrace it.”

“Maybe in the future. When top and bottom jokes are more…applicable.” Clarke chuckles, but the images that flash through her mind are anything but laughable. She shifts along the sofa, turns away from the TV and climbs into Lexa’s lap, effectively straddling her.

“Now who’s being inappropriate?”

“Well you just climbed on top of me, so…you.”

Their faces are agonizingly close, and Lexa can’t ignore the feeling of Clarke’s thighs on either side of her own or the heat of her stomach where it’s pressed against her chest.

“You can’t tell me you don’t want to kiss me right now,” Clarke whispers, prompting shivers to travel the length of Lexa’s spine and outwards, down the limbs that are currently wrapped around Clarke. “You have goosebumps. That’s how much you want to kiss me.”

“Of course I want to kiss you. I don’t think you even understand how much I want you, Clarke.”

Clarke looks hopeful and leans in even further, her warm breath tickling Lexa’s lips. She takes a deep breath.

“But I’m standing by what I said before. We’re doing this properly.”

Clarke tilts her head back and lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’re impossible,” she makes to get off Lexa and return to her previous, slightly safer, position on the sofa, but she stops her.

“Stay here. Maybe just, turn around, so you’re not so distracting.”

Clarke raises her eyebrows skeptically.

“I’m cold, I need the body heat,” she tries to justify.

“Sure, like that’s the reason.”

“Just like that was _your_ reason on the night of our spontaneous spooning session?”

“Fine, you win.” Clarke turns around and leans her head back against Lexa’s shoulder. They settle into a comfortable silence as Lexa gets the first episode playing on the TV.

“So…I’ve been wondering…how does it work with your bodyguards and, you know, going on dates. Aren’t they a little off-putting?”

“It’s kind of like when I go out normally, they’ll just stand by the door and wait until we’re done. They did that when we used to go for coffee, or when we had that double date -,”

“But you weren’t trying to woo someone on those. I’d think they were a little distracting.”

“They’re just a constant feature in my life. They’re kind of like wallpaper. Yes, I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but I don’t notice them. And besides, who says I wasn’t trying to woo anyone in those moments?”

Clarke just laughs and tangles their fingers together.

“I’ve had bodyguards since I was 17, and I haven’t had any problems ‘wooing’ women. I hope you’re not an exception.”

“A fair point. I guess I don’t need much persuasion anyway. It’s not really trying to win someone over when you already have them.”

“That was incredibly sappy, Clarke.”

“What can I say, that’s the effect you have on me.”

“And I love it. Now be quiet, Meredith and Derek are being even more sappy than us and I want to listen.”

***

Clarke swears out loud and throws another top at the wall in frustration. She’s been trying on outfits for an hour and a half and is still yet to find anything she deems suitable. Lexa had sent her home around 5, insisting that they had to get ready separately for it to be a ‘proper date.’ Clarke had of course protested, saying that she would very much like to watch Lexa get ready, or specifically undressed, and Lexa had laughed her out the door. Now she was sat cross legged on her bed glaring at all the inadequate outfits that dared to be in her closet. _This is ridiculous. You are not this girl._ Normally she was so confident in looking great in anything that she threw an outfit together 5 minutes before she had to be out the door. The changes Lexa brought about in her were unsettling, but not in a bad way. She was just so desperate to look nice for her. The other girl was clearly so hung up on making everything perfect for their first date and Clarke wanted to look the part. It’s silly really, when she thinks about all the people she’s dated and realizes that Lexa is probably the least likely to care what she’s wearing; she’s just interested in Clarke as a person, not as an actress. She knows Lexa probably has these same insecurities and has to resist the urge to call her when she saw her two hours ago and will be seeing her again shortly.

In the end she opts for a plain blue top that Lexa once complimented her on and black jeans. After half an hour of harassment Lexa had given up on keeping it a complete secret and told her they were going somewhere fairly casual. This surprised and delighted Clarke. She had no interest in dates to extortionately expensive restaurants where she had to wear a fancy dress and eat with all the correct cutlery. Even as an actress with quite a lot of money herself, Clarke had always been against using it to impress other people, and she’s so glad Lexa feels the same way. The ability to spend a lot of money doesn’t tell you anything about a person other than that they feel it’s their most redeeming quality. Clarke’s best dates have been the ones where they’ve just gone with the flow and ended up eating burgers on the side of the road, or crashing a college party. Dating is best when it isn’t forced and you can just have an honest good time with someone. She has a feeling the top spot on her list of best dates is about to change.

She puts on a little makeup and attempts to style her hair, even though she knows it will stubbornly free itself at some point like it always does. She kind of wishes she could text Raven or Octavia the way she would normally text a girlfriend before a date, but she hasn’t told them about her and Lexa yet. She then realizes that she shouldn’t refer to them as her girlfriends anymore, now that that title is reserved solely for one person. _Girlfriend_ , she considers. _I like the way that sounds._

She shakes herself out of her reverie when her phone buzzes with a text from the aforementioned girlfriend.

**Lexa: I’m outside your door : )**

**Clarke: And you didn’t knock…because?**

**Lexa: In case you weren’t ready.**

Clarke shakes her head and goes to open the door. Lexa is standing there in a simple black dress, hair down and wavy, holding a bunch of lilies and wearing the biggest smile Clarke has ever seen.

“Ok, I am 100% sure I never told you lilies are my favorite flower.”

“I may have asked Bellamy. I had a hunch, though. They’re my favorites too,” she grins, handing them over.

Clarke embraces her. “Thank you. You look great, by the way. I didn’t know what to wear…”

“What you’re wearing is lovely, although I may be biased. Did you wear that shirt because I said I liked it?”

“Maybe…”

Lexa shakes her head happily. “Ready to go?”

“Let me just put these in water. Come in. I can’t believe you’ve never been to my apartment.”

Lexa follows her in, looking around curiously. “I like it.”

Clarke busies herself setting her lilies in a vase, smiling like a 14 year old girl who just got asked on a date for the first time. She can’t believe how happy just being around Lexa makes her feel.

“So why do you like lilies? I just think they’re pretty, but I know sometimes people have all these deep and meaningful attachments to flowers…”

Lexa blushes. “Well, uh, you probably haven’t seen it, but they talk about them a lot in the film Imagine Me and You…”

Clarke looks at her expectantly, waiting for further explanation.

“They’re the lesbian of flowers, basically.”

Clarke bursts out laughing. “Ironic, then, that they’ve always been my favorites. Do they have a meaning?”

Lexa considers this but decides against it. “I’ll tell you about that another time. Come on, the car’s waiting.”

Clarke narrows her eyes at the change of subject and vows to ask her about it again another time. She takes Lexa’s hand as they head down to the lobby of the building and out to the waiting limo, where Lexa eschews her driver’s attempt to open the door for Clarke in favor of doing it herself.

It’s not a long drive, and Clarke spends it quizzing Lexa with questions that she won’t answer.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so impatient, you know.”

“I wouldn’t have to be so impatient if you would just tell me where we’re going.”

“We’re almost there. It’s not…the place isn’t anything special, Clarke, I hope that’s ok. It’s just a favorite of mine and I thought you’d like it.”

Clarke kisses the back of her hand. “It will be special regardless because you’re taking me there.”

“Here we are, Ms. Woods.”

“Thank you James,” she says brightly, hopping out and pulling Clarke with her before he has a chance to help them.

Sam and Elliot appear in their usual fashion, as if from nowhere, and follow them stealthily into the building. As soon as they’re inside they assume their positions by the door, blending in, in Lexa’s words, like wallpaper.

“They don’t even have to really watch me when I’m here because everyone knows me. They can stay upstairs.”

“Where are we going, then?”

“Down here,” Lexa smiles mischievously, throwing open a door in the wall that Clarke hadn’t noticed. It leads to a set of very rickety steps, winding down through the floor. As they descend the door above them shuts, plunging them into darkness. Clarke misses a step and goes careering forwards into the back of Lexa, grabbing hold of her involuntarily for support. They stay that way for a minute, the sound of Clarke’s heavy breathing the only thing punctuating the silence.

“Clarke.”

“Uh huh.”

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, sorry, I thought I was going to die there for a second, so I’m just…chilling.”

“Drama Queen. You weren’t going to die. And your hand is on my boob.”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” _Yeah, right._

“Are you going to move…? Or did you want to spend the whole date manhandling me in the darkness.”

“I’ll show you manhandling…” Clarke mutters, standing up straight and groping for a non-existent bannister to grip onto. She settles for Lexa’s shoulder.

“How long does this…oh.” She stops short as they emerge into a well-lit, brightly decorated bar, and she has to give her eyes a moment to adjust. The room is fairly small as bars go, but has a warm, homely feel about it. It’s not like bars that Clarke is used to, where people sit with their friends in tiny groups and rarely venture out to talk to anyone else. Instead, there appears to be one large mass of people in the center of the room, talking and socializing all together. Some of them are bent over a pool table, where there seems to be approximately 10 members on each team, and two of the barmaids are sat cross legged on the bar playing cards while the rest merrily make and serve drinks around them. Clarke turns to Lexa.

“This is awesome! What is this place?”

“The Underground. It doesn’t even have a proper name, that’s just what everyone calls it. I used to come here as a kid because my mom’s friend was the owner. It’s so well hidden that only certain groups of people know about it, so everyone who comes knows everyone else. I like it here because no one cares that I’m famous. I’m just same old Lexa.”

Clarke is about to respond when someone across the room spots them standing by the stairs and roars: “Well, if it isn’t Lexa frickin’ Woods! Where have you been, girl?!” The man who speaks is around their age, short and stocky and completely, stereotypically Irish. He has long ginger hair and a frizzy beard, and speaks with the strongest accent Clarke has ever heard. At his words, the whole room turns towards them and cheers.

They make their way over to where he’s standing and Lexa is almost bowled over by the force with which he gives her a hug. “I’ve missed ya, Lex.”

“I’ve missed you too, Ryan,” she chuckles and takes his drink out of his hand for a sip. “But not as much as I’ve missed the beer in this place.”

“I knew you had an ulterior motive for coming back. And who, may I ask, is this lovely lady right here?”

“This is Clarke, my…uh, my date.” Clarke smiles at Lexa’s friend and tries to control the spike in her heartrate at Lexa almost slipping up and calling her her girlfriend. _I should have known she’s going to want to ask me that officially. That’s so Lexa._

“You’re both very lucky girls, that’s all I’m going to say. Now let me get you some drinks, on the house.”

They take a couple of seats at the bar as Lexa explains that Ryan’s father was the friend of her mom’s that used to own the bar, and that the two of them were childhood friends. Clarke loves the images that the stories bring; young, brave, headstrong Lexa, wide eyed and seeking adventure, sneaking off to an underground bar downtown to play drinking games and drink delicious beer with a group of loud Irishman. Getting to know all the many hidden sides of Lexa is becoming her favorite pastime.

She wasn’t wrong about the beer, either. Clarke is not normally a big beer drinker but this stuff is truly wonderful. She relaxes a little as Ryan presents them with endless free rounds of the stuff, and is so overcome with affection for her date ( _girlfriend)_ that she can’t help but press a quick kiss to her cheek.

Lexa’s responding smile is huge, and they venture over to the pool table holding hands. They encounter more of her old friends and Clarke mingles easily. She loves how most of them don’t recognize her; these are not the kind of people that might see the kind of shows she’s on and sometimes that’s refreshing. They don’t know who she is and they don’t care who Lexa is, and Clarke feels free for the first time since they admitted their feelings. In this moment they are not two actresses trying to navigate the complicated waters of dating and Hollywood simultaneously, but just two girls who really like each other, starting a relationship. Seeing how happy it makes Lexa to be here and to be herself, Clarke is overwhelmed by the need to protect her, to put a smile like that on her face as often as possible and not let the pressures of their jobs drag her down. Lexa slides an arm around her waist, kisses her temple softly and whispers:

“Do you want to go somewhere a little more private?” and then, “for food, I mean. They have a back room.”

“Sure.”

She leads her into what Clarke assumes is the dining area, set off to the side behind the bar. There is no one else eating but the atmosphere is still alive with the background noise of glasses clinking and boisterous conversation in the next room. They sit in the corner at a table with a deliciously scented candle in the middle, and Lexa props her head up in her hands and looks expressively into Clarke’s eyes. The moment is so intimate and Clarke is so blissfully happy she doesn’t quite know what to say. She settles for taking both of Lexa’s hands in hers across the table and wrapping her ankle around her leg. Lexa chuckles.

“I’m glad we can finally play footsie without me having to tell you off.”

“There are a lot of things I’m glad we can finally do.”

Lexa opens her mouth to reprimand her but Clarke cuts her off.

“I mean like, go on dates. Sit across from each other and hold hands. Openly show affection without one of us having a heart attack. That kind of thing.”

A corner of Lexa’s mouth tilts up and she’s about to reply when she sees Ryan through the door. She gives him a thumbs up and he nods and hurries off.

“Don’t we need to order?”

“I ordered for us earlier, I hope that’s ok. It’s an old Irish recipe and you have to try it.”

“That’s fine. As long as I can have more of that beer.”

“That’s on its way too. And even better is that it doesn’t leave you with a deathly hangover like anything Raven makes.”

“I did genuinely think that might be the hangover that killed me.”

“Tell me about it.”

“At least something good came out of those drinks, though. If I hadn’t been so drunk that night I would have never been so outrageously inappropriate with you, and we would have both gone on pretending we weren’t completely obsessed with each other.”

“Ah, yes. The lesbian sex monologue, I recall. I think that’s the first time that particular speech has actually worked out for me.”

“Well, it definitely did you some favors this time. And taught me more about all the favors I can give you…,” she sticks her tongue out but stops before she gets told off again.

“Seriously though, Lexa, I did want to say something tonight,” she continues. “I know that doing this properly is really important to you, and that’s fine with me. Whatever speed you’re comfortable with is great. I can wait. I joke about it but we both know it’s not really about that. Kissing and touching you would be awesome, but the fact is I love being around you, in whatever capacity. When you walk into a room, I’m just instantly calm, like as soon as I see you I know everything’s going to be ok. I noticed that from the second I met you, and that’s why I didn’t even have to think about to know it was the right decision to end things with John and be with you. I know we’re only just getting started, but I am so, so happy that we’re together right now. You make me this kind of happy that I’ve never known before. I don’t know, I just wanted you to know that,” she blushes and looks down.

“Clarke, look at me,” Lexa reaches out and tilts Clarke’s chin up so that their eyes meet.

“You are…not what I was expecting, at all. Sometimes I think it might be better if we got a warning about things, you know, like it might have been helpful if someone had just sent me a letter like ‘hey, you’re going to meet this girl tomorrow and she’s going to turn everything upside down, good luck!’ At least then I could have been prepared for everything you were about to bring to my life. But then I think, maybe its better this way, because you are…the best kind of surprise I have ever had. It hasn’t been that long but I’m already certain that I want to be with you, in every way. Of course I want to kiss you, and…other stuff, but mostly I just want to be yours. I make such a big deal out of treating you right because that’s what you deserve, and too often in my life I’ve overlooked what other people deserve. I’m not making that mistake again. So, will you -,”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Clarke blurts.

“You seriously did _not_ just beat me to that.”

“Oh, but I think I did.”

“Clarke, I cannot believe -,”

“Answer the question Lexa.”

“Of course I will. But I really wanted to ask you…,” she pouts and Clarke taps her lightly on the chin.

“Chin up. The end result is still the same. You snooze, you lose.”

“I hate you.”

“You don’t hate me.”

“You got me there.”

***

They eventually emerge from The Underground, Lexa supporting Clarke to avoid another ‘almost dying’ incident, (although of course she wouldn’t have minded some more manhandling), and wave Sam and Elliot off as they clamber into the waiting limo.

“Seriously, what do they do with their time? We were down there for at least four hours, and they were in the exact same position when we got back.”

“Sometimes I think when I can’t see them they sneak off and go for a smoke. Probably not, though. I think I pay them enough to make it worth standing like a statue for four hours. They probably just text their girlfriends. I overheard Sam having the funniest phone sex once.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh my god, it was hilarious. I mean phone sex is all well and good but surely you’d make sure you were somewhere where no one could hear you before you, you know, commenced,” Lexa rolls her eyes.

“Phone sex is ‘all well and good’, huh? Good to know…” Clarke teases.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you.”

“No, not really,” she admits. “I think I have a problem. Wait, where are we going?” she has her nose pressed to the tinted glass to try and see where they are, and realizes they are not on track for Lexa’s apartment.

“We’re going to your apartment.”

“Why?!”

“Because…you live there?”

“Ok, like I understand no sex but…no Greys Anatomy? Seriously?”

“I think we already watched an unhealthy amount of Greys Anatomy today. And I’m dropping you back at your home like a gentleman. Woman.” She corrects.

Clarke sighs for what seems like an unfeasible amount of time before nodding. “Ok.”

“Ms. Griffin’s apartment, Ms. Woods,” says James from the front, and Clarke wonders if he knows how to say anything other than their location or ‘Ms Woods’.

Clarke opens the door and Lexa follows her out. “Let me guess, you’re walking me to my door.”

“Of course I am.”

Clarke turns and blocks the doorway, using her body as a human shield to prevent Lexa from following her into the lobby.

“Clarke, what are you doing?”

“I’m keeping you out here.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to do this in my dirty hallway. I want to do it right here.”

Lexa isn’t even finished being completely baffled before Clarke has pulled her flush against her and her lips are on Lexa’s. As soon as they are kissing, Lexa loses any ability to think rationally. The only thoughts going through her head in that moment are variations of ‘ohmyfuckinggod this is really happening’ and ‘this is quite possibly the best moment of my life.’ She doesn’t care that they are out in the open, where literally anyone could see them, she only cares about Clarke’s arms wrapped around her waist and Clarke’s bottom lip between her own, and Clarke is in a similar haze. She has heard, of course, the expression about fireworks, but she finds that to be a rather inadequate description. Fireworks are loud, abrasive and volatile. They explode in a fiery blaze, putting on a show, and although they might be considered beautiful they are an unknown entity and they paint the sky in ways it was not intended to be painted. This is the complete opposite. Clarke feels like she was always intended to end up here, like her entire life had been leading to this moment. She has the sensation that until this moment she was missing something, but could never establish what it was until this second, stood in the slushy streets of New York with Lexa in her arms. It is not a flamboyant kiss, there is no putting on a show about it, but instead a familiarity, like discovering the real definition of home for the first time. She thinks she could do this forever and hopes, in a way, that she will.

They break apart slowly, both blinking as they emerge from the spell they cast over each other.

“Whoah.”

“I know.”

They are still stood very close, Lexa with one arm around Clarke’s neck and the other circling her waist. She rests her forehead against Clarke’s.

“Was that ok…? I should have asked, you know, with the paparazzi around and stuff, but god I just really wanted to kiss you, and I’m so proud to be with you I just thought -,”

Lexa cuts her off by kissing her again, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and eliciting a small whimper from Clarke. She shifts her hands so that they are on Clarke’s hips, causing her top and jacket to ride up slightly. She almost moans at the feeling of finally having her hands on her bare skin, the contrast between Clarke’s warm stomach and Lexa’s cold fingers igniting a burning in both their chests. She pulls away from the kiss again, before her actions run away from her. They are, after all, standing on the pavement on a busy New York street. After all this time she’s become rather good at tuning out the blaring flash of a camera, but she’s sure they’re here somewhere. However, with Clarke staring into her eyes the way she is, she realizes she literally could not care less.

“As if I’m going to complain after you kissed me like that,” Lexa replies.

“I can do it again if you’d like.”

“I would like that, very much.”

Clarke giggles and leans back in, but Lexa stops her, inches before their lips are touching again. “This is a bigger decision for you than for me,” she whispers. “Pictures of this are going to be everywhere tomorrow, are you…ready for that?”

“I’m ready to be with you. Let people say what they want; I don’t want to hide this.”

Lexa smiles from ear to ear, overwhelmed with pride. “You really are brave, you know,” she brushes their noses together, “and your nose is bloody freezing.”

“But my lips are warm. And so is my apartment,” says Clarke enticingly.

“I’m afraid you’re just going to have to take my word for how much I want that right now,” Lexa admits. “There’s no rush, remember.”

“I think you deserve some kind of award for the willpower you’re displaying.”

“I would be inclined to agree.”

“Ok…new plan. How about you go home and we can give that phone sex thing a try,” Clarke whispers right into Lexa’s neck and it tickles and turns her on equally.

“You’re killing me.”

“Fine. Maybe I’ll just have to ride solo,” she winks.

“You’re terrible.” Lexa gives her one more quick kiss and turns back towards the limo, where James has been waiting patiently this entire time.

“Well if you do, I hope you’re thinking of me,” she adds cheekily, turning back to where Clarke is still stood, framed in the doorway with the light sprinkling of snow giving off the impression that she has a halo. It’s apt, really, when in Lexa’s mind she is pretty much an angel.

“I’m always thinking of you.”

“Goodnight, Clarke.”

“Goodnight, Lexa.”

As she trudges up the stairs in her apartment block, Clarke thinks back to her earlier musings. She was right, that was _definitely_ the best date she’s ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm not going to lie, I really really like this chapter. I'm really pleased with how it turned out. My girls are almost nauseatingly cute. I hope the date lived up to expectations, it was a little different, but I based it on a bar that I went to when I was in New York, and I really liked the idea of Lexa sharing her childhood haunt with Clarke. FYI, she never took Niylah there. I tried to write that in but it felt weird for Lexa to bring up her ex on a date with Clarke. But now you guys know :)  
> I hope you enjoy.  
> @HARMONSANGEL on twitter as always, or comment if you like it :D  
> \- Amy x


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's mom sees the news, and Lexa gets way too excited.

**The next day**

If there’s one thing Clarke Griffin has learnt in her 25 full and vibrant years, it’s that when you wake up in the morning to 29 missed calls from your mother, something has normally gone terribly wrong.

When she wakes up at 11.30 and groggily blinks at her phone screen through the haze of sleep, she is dismayed to discover that this is one of those mornings. In her sleepy state she can’t fathom what could be the reason for these 29 missed calls, but she knows Abby will just keep calling her if she doesn’t respond. It’s time to face the music, whatever the music might be on this occasion. She unplugs her phone from the wall, rolls over, presses the ‘call back’ button and tries to keep her racing heart steady as she waits for an answer. She doesn’t have to wait long.

“You’re a _lesbian now_?!”

_Oh. That._

Clarke audibly groans at her mother’s piercing shriek and increases the distance between her phone and her eardrum. Abby is still talking.

“- and don’t you groan at me, Clarke Griffin, I can practically _hear_ you rolling your eyes. How could you not tell me about this?!”

“Ok, first of all, mother, I’m not a _lesbian,”_ she responds, imitating Abby’s exaggerated annunciation of the word, “and secondly, I don’t have to tell you every decision I make about my dating life as soon as it happens.” She snaps, feeling the frustration building inside her like a toxic tidal wave of emotion. “ _God knows you don’t do the same for me,”_ she adds, under her breath.

“I heard that. There’s no need to be defensive, Clarke, you just should have told me that you’re gay -,”

“Are you not hearing me, mom? I’m not gay.”

“There’s a picture of you…” she hesitates, as if kissing is a bad word, “ _canoodling_ with a woman on the cover of US weekly, and you’re telling me you’re not gay?”

_We made it to the front cover of US weekly? Wow_ , Clarke muses before remembering that her mother will require a response. She steels herself to tell her what she probably should have told her before they appeared on the front of a gossip magazine ‘ _canoodling’_. _Oh well,_ she thinks, _better late than never._

“Mom, kissing one woman doesn’t make me gay. I’m not even sure it makes me bisexual. I don’t feel the need to assume a label because it’s no one’s business who I have in my bed except my own. All you and the rest of the world need to know is that I have a girlfriend and she makes me very happy.”

“A girlfriend,” says Abby, trying to compute. “And she didn’t…you know, pressure you…or anything? This was your decision?”

Clarke almost laughs at the ridiculousness of it all. If anyone had been pressuring anyone, it had definitely been her. Lexa’s not a predator, which is what Abby is trying to say without actually saying it.

“God, no. If you must know, mother, I pursued her. I told her I had feelings for her, I broke up with my boyfriend to be with her, I asked her to officially be my girlfriend and I kissed her first. And damn if it wasn’t the best kiss I’ve ever had -,”

“That’s enough, Clarke. There’s no need to be crude.”

“You wouldn’t say that if I was talking about a new boyfriend. You were all ears when I kissed John for the first time,” she defies. This was true and she should have guessed this would be her mother’s reaction. Even if she isn’t being outright homophobic, her double standards are all too clear.

“You can’t blame me for being a bit…surprised.”

“No, I can’t blame you for being surprised, but I can blame you for not being supportive.”

“I am being supportive! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have flown off the handle like that, but it’s just…it’s a lot to digest, Clarke, you have to appreciate that. A few weeks ago you had a boyfriend, and now you’re sleeping with a girl -,”

“Her name is Lexa, and I’m not just sleeping with her. We’re dating. We’re girlfriends. I-,” she stops short when she realizes what she was about to say; her mother is not the right person to be sharing that with. “I really like her, mom. It would mean a lot to me if you could support that.”

“Of course I will. I’m sorry I reacted that way. I just wish I could have heard it first from you and not from Elaine at the Bridge Club. It was mortifying.”

_Right. How could I forget that the opinions of the ladies at the bridge club matter far more to her than my feelings? Silly me._ Clarke tries to take the high road.

“I should have called you first. I’m sorry it was so embarrassing for you,” she says, having a hard time keeping the malice out of her tone.

“You’re not getting me, I wasn’t embarrassed because you’re into women, I was embarrassed because I didn’t know and they all found out before me-,”

Clarke barely listens as her mother rambles on, thinking that she’d just unknowingly summed up their relationship. _You’re not getting me_. Truthfully, she never had. That was just the story of their lives, tiptoeing around each other, coexisting without ever really bonding. It was no fault of theirs; they were just two very different people. Clarke likens them to two parallel lines on a graph: inhabiting the same plane, in close proximity, but never crossing paths. She thinks it’s a real shame. Her father had always been the one to really recognize and appreciate her, and now he’s gone. He’s gone and they’re both lost without him.

“Mom, it’s fine, really. I blindsided you, but I’m glad you know now.”

“John hasn’t been himself at the practice recently. I hope you were completely honest with him. He deserves better than being lied to.”

“I was. I didn’t lie to him or…cheat on him, or anything. I never meant for him to get hurt, this just sort of…happened.” _Why am I justifying myself to her?_

“Well, ok. If you’re sure.”

Clarke is growing tired of this conversation.

“Yeah. I’ve, uh…I’ve got to go now.”

“Ok. Call me soon.”

“Will do.”

Clarke ends the call and lies back on her bed, taking deep breaths. That was not how this morning was supposed to go. She was supposed to wake up to cute texts from Lexa and reminisce some more about the life-changing kiss that had permeated her dreams too. Instead she feels anxious and frustrated because of the conversation with her mother. She pads into the bathroom and splashes some cold water on her face to try and clear her head. She can’t really blame Abby. Its Clarke’s own fault for not telling her before the news got out, and she did say she would support their relationship. It was naïve to hope for anything more, she supposes. From what she gathers it’s quite uncommon for a child to come out to their parents and be completely accepted with open arms; she doesn’t know why she thought her mother of all people would be one of the rare few.

_Anyway._ She physically shakes her head to rid herself of those negative thoughts and moves onto a much happier and frequently visited subject: Lexa. As suspected her inbox is full of adorable messages from her ( _her girlfriend,_ she reminds herself with a smile), who obviously managed to wake up earlier than Clarke did.

**Lexa: Good morning beautiful <3**

**Lexa: That was lame. I’m so horny when I’m around you.**

**Lexa: *CORNY! That was supposed to say corny.**

**Lexa: How embarrassing. Anyway I miss you.**

**Lexa: Wake up, I’m bored.**

**Lexa: did you have fun without me after I left ;)**

**Lexa: you don’t have to answer that.**

**Lexa: I think 7 unanswered texts is bordering on stalking, so I’m going to stop now. I can’t wait to see you later.**

Clarke’s smile grows steadily as she reads each message. She flops back down onto her bed and types out a quick reply.

**Clarke: Horny works too. I can’t wait to see you either.**

Even though she should start getting ready, she gives herself another minute to relax as she flicks through the photos that they took the night before at The Underground. There’s Lexa, grinning like an idiot, wedged between Clarke and Ryan whose arm is extended to take the selfie. Clarke loves how different that smile is to the one that the paparazzi and the rest of the world see. That smile is reserved for her, and she doesn’t feel like sharing it.

Her mind drifts to what she almost said to her mother on the phone, and she wonders when the right time to tell Lexa will be. She knows it’s soon and doesn’t plan to tell her immediately but her dad always said that when you know you know, and Clarke definitely knows.

_We’re dating. We’re girlfriends. I’m falling in love with her._

***

“Clarke, Jesus, fuck, we need to, fuck, we need to stop,” Lexa pants, sitting up abruptly and bringing a very tousled, pouting Clarke up with her. “I, uh, I need a second.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow but stays firmly in place, thighs either side of Lexa’s, pinning her to the sofa. “Why? I’m really…really enjoying myself…” she winks, running her hand down Lexa’s side, dangerously close to where she really wants to be. Lexa grabs her hand and returns it to a safer place, resting on her shoulder. It takes her a minute to get her thoughts in order and stop breathing like she’s just run a marathon. She feels like she may as well have with the rate at which her heart is pumping, although she wagers a marathon would have diverted all her blood to both her legs, whilst hers is concentrated to a more specific place between them.

After the development in their relationship last night Clarke knew she was going to be unable to resist kissing Lexa from now on. They had made it all of 5 minutes sitting innocently on the sofa before she was in Lexa’s lap, kissing her neck and trying to convince her that a make out session was a great idea. Naturally, Lexa hadn’t needed too much convincing. Last night’s kiss had been sweet, loving and exciting because it was their first. Now, Clarke was excited in a very different way and Lexa was powerless to resist.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re an extremely dirty kisser?” asks Lexa, shaking her head.

“Dirty? Clarke shimmies up Lexa’s body a little so that her thighs are now clamped either side of her hips, and grinds down slightly. “In what way?”

Lexa shivers at the contact. They are both still fully clothed and the touching had so far been pretty innocent (apart from Clarke’s filthy kissing), but her mind is flooded with images of the all the not so innocent ways she wants to touch Clarke and she can’t resist lifting her hips a little to meet Clarke’s movements. She pretends to think hard.

“Mmmm…I don’t know…I’ve forgotten already. Maybe you should kiss me again and -,” she pauses to draw in a sharp breath and Clarke guides her back to a lying position, face inches away. “Remind me,” she manages before Clarke surges and their lips meet desperately. The movement causes a particularly hard grind of Clarke’s hips into hers and Lexa gasps into her mouth and hooks one leg around Clarke’s ass so that they both get the increased friction they need. Lexa tries desperately to stay in control, but having Clarke wrapped around her like this and invading all her senses is making it increasingly difficult to think clearly.

Clarke’s nips gently at her bottom lip with her teeth, soothing it immediately with her tongue. Lexa groans into the kiss.

“Is that what you meant by a dirty kisser?” Clarke teases, breaking away for a second to whisper in Lexa’s ear and press hot kisses down the column of her neck. “Something like that, yeah,” is all Lexa can manage.

“Well, since I’m already playing dirty…” she smiles evilly and before Lexa has a chance to protest Clarke has rearranged herself so that her thigh is between Lexa’s. Even through two layers of clothes Lexa can feel every movement between her legs, and it’s almost too much. She is too sensitive, too aroused, and she needs to put a stop to it.

_Stop thinking with your vagina. She’s been known to make very bad decisions for you. Be responsible._

She sits up again and this time succeeds in dislodging Clarke from her position of power. She topples off Lexa and onto the floor.

“Sorry,” Lexa breathes, peering over the side of the sofa and reaching out a hand. “We actually have to stop this time.”

Clarke crawls back up onto the sofa but instead of straddling her again she just sits down and pulls Lexa’s legs into her lap. “Yeah, sorry. I got a bit…carried away,” she says sheepishly.

“It happens.”

“I guess it does. It’s just now that I’ve kissed you once I don’t want to ever stop. I could have kept kissing you for hours,” she laughs.

“Well I definitely couldn’t have done _that_ for hours, if you know what I mean,” says Lexa, turning bright red. It takes Clarke a minute to understand.

“Oh. Well, that’s totally fine. I’ll have to learn to be less of a ‘dirty kisser’,” she teases, snuggling up closer to Lexa on the sofa and laughing into the skin of her shoulder.

Lexa huffs. “It’s not fine! It’s embarrassing! I should be able to handle some making out.”

“Why would you think it’s embarrassing? I love that you’re so hot for me. No one’s ever made me feel as beautiful and sexy as you do. Plus, it wasn’t really just making out. There was definitely some grinding,” Clarke tries to reassure a mortified Lexa, who is still very red. She kisses the back of her hand.

“And whose fault was that?” Lexa says, kissing the top of her head.

Clarke nods. “I rushed you again. I’m sorry. I said I wouldn’t do that.”

“No, it’s fine, I mean it’s not like I minded, exactly,” she replies, laughing. “It’s just…been a while, you know?” She blushes even further.

“You’re not the only one, don’t worry. And remember, you’re still my expert lesbian guru. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”

Lexa can’t help but laugh at this. “I’m going to be honest, Clarke, it seems like you know _exactly_ what you’re doing.”

“First timer’s luck?” She grins, leaning in to peck her lightly on the cheek.

“Clarke, your crotch is vibrating.”

“As useful as that could be for our future ventures…” (Lexa blushes again) ”...it’s probably my mom calling me to cry some more about how she’s fallen from grace in the bridge club…” she rants, reaching to retrieve her phone from her vibrating crotch.

“Oh. Or not.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Lexa leans over to have a look when she sees Clarke’s face fall slightly.

“Nothing’s…nothing’s wrong. It’s just…it seems Raven and Octavia have seen the news.”

“And they’re mad?”

“I wouldn’t say mad…”

“I can see at least 10 angry emoji’s. I’d say they’re pretty mad.”

Clarke takes a deep breath and shuts her eyes, trying to figure out the best way to tackle this when she has to see them both tomorrow at the cast party. When she opens one eye Lexa is very close, looking at her with a concerned expression.

“I think you should call them,” she instructs Clarke.

“Ok.” She continues to sit there.

“Now, Clarke.”

“Can’t I just pretend everything’s cool for a little longer?”

“No. They’re your friends, they won’t stay mad at you forever. Just tell them the truth.”

“Ok. Hold my hand.” Lexa takes it and practices her supportive face as she watches Clarke dial. Clarke loves the feel of Lexa holding her hand. Having Raven and Octavia be mad at her may be a pretty minor obstacle in the grand scheme of things, but Clarke feels like she could take on the world with one hand as long as Lexa was holding the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that one was a bit shorter. I have the next two all planned out so shouldn't be too long. I wanted Abby to have a bit of a mixed reaction because as lovely as it is to see completely accepting parents in fics, in real life if your parents are like that to your coming out then you're extremely lucky, and I wanted to represent those who aren't so lucky. Abby means well, but just doesn't really know how to express herself. I should hopefully be able to develop their relationship a bit more before the end of this fic.   
> Please go easy on me for my first attempt at a smutty scene! I know it wasn't that smutty, I intend to work up to that, but appreciate that I wrote that at work with 15 coworkers who could see what's on my screen if they really wanted to. I hope you like it. And if people are wondering why exactly Octavia and Raven are mad, it's because they had their suspicions and both gave Clarke a chance to tell them about her and Lexa but she pretty much lied to them. They'll sort it out pretty quickly, I'm sure ;) Sorry for the sappy chapter ending (actually, I'm not sorry at all) but I saw that quote somewhere once and it fit perfectly so I went with it.   
> God that was a lot of notes.   
> I hope you like this one. Lots of goodness to come.   
> hmu @HARMONSANGEL on twitter or jedihaught on Tumblr. please comment!  
> lots of love   
> \- Amy x


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke has to grovel to R and O, and Clexa have way too good a time at the cast party. Clarke's Princess nickname gets an explanation (spoiler alert, it's funny).  
> (Warning: mention of drugs but it's not detailed and it's also in the tags)

**Chapter 14**

“Well, look who finally found some balls.” Raven picks up on the second ring, sounding overwhelmingly unimpressed. “And because I can guarantee she’s sat right next to you, hello Lexa.”

“Hi, Raven,” Lexa leans over to speak into Clarke’s phone and ends up staying there, feeling like Clarke might benefit from the proximity.

“Raven, is O with you?” asks Clarke.

“Yeah, she’s here, you’re on speaker.”

“Ok, great. I’m just going to go straight into this. I’m _really_ sorry, you guys. You have every right to be mad at me. You both gave me a chance to tell you the truth about Lexa and I and I lied to you, more than once. It’s completely unacceptable and I don’t even know why I wasn’t just honest with you. I should have understood that you guys are my friends and you would never judge me. It’s all on me, and I’m really, really sorry.” She takes a deep breath and looks to Lexa for support, who nods at her encouragingly. Lexa thinks that was a pretty good apology, as they go. Groveling is usually the way to a girl’s heart.

There is silence on the end of the line for a few moments.

Octavia breaks it. “Listen, Clarke, I know we haven’t been friends for that long, and it’s not that we expect you to share everything with us. We just wish you hadn’t outright lied. That night when we were all at Raven’s I gave you a chance to tell me if something was up. You didn’t even have to give me the fully story, you could have just said you weren’t ready to talk about it, but you said there was nothing going on, and I _knew_ you were lying. We’re not mad, really, just a little hurt that we had to find out from the front of US weekly and not from you. Or you, Lexa, for that matter. We’re your friends too, you could have said something.”

 _Well, at least they’re not just blaming Clarke,_ thinks Lexa, and squeezes Clarke’s hand even tighter.

“I’m not going to make excuses, guys, I really am sorry. All I know is that I was really scared. Terrified, actually. I was terrified because I was having these feelings, really strong feelings, outside of my relationship and I’d never been there before. Add that to the fact that I didn’t really understand the nature of those feelings because I’ve never been with a girl before, and I was a huge mess. When I asked you that time, O, if you’ve ever been attracted to a girl, and you gave me that speech about how I was supposed to feel about John, I just got really scared. I knew I was crossing lines and I couldn’t stop myself and my response to that was to try and handle it on my own, which was the wrong decision. I know for the future not to try that again.” Clarke hadn’t particularly wanted to get into that in front of Lexa, because now it was obvious how much she’d got into Clarke’s head whilst she was still dating John. She consoles herself with the thought that that had probably been pretty obvious anyway. Lexa is still sitting close, smiling reassuringly, and she is overwhelmed with affection for the woman sat beside her. She’d never wanted their relationship to cause trouble for anyone, and yet somehow they’ve found themselves in this position. _I will fix this,_ she thinks decisively.

“I would really like to sort this out. I don’t have a lot of close female friends, and I’ve really valued getting to know you guys better in the last few months. What do I need to do to prove that to you?”

“Ooh, let me think…you could ask your girlfriend to put me on the list for some hot Hollywood parties?” Clarke grins as she hears the return of the good humored Raven she knows and loves. Lexa pipes up.

“A reminder that her girlfriend can hear you, Ray. And done. Whatever party you want, I’ll get you in.”

“Great, and a ride in your limo whenever I want?”

“I can probably arrange that.”

“And I can tell my family and friends that I’m friends with Lexa Woods?”

“If that will make you happy.”

“It will.”

“Ok then.”

“Can we do another movie where we make out?”

“ _I’m_ going to have to politely decline that one,” Clarke interrupts, and Lexa winks at her, thoroughly enjoying her possessiveness.

“Ok, you’re both forgiven,” says Raven cheerily. Clarke thanks God for the nature of the girl; she doubts Raven is even capable of holding a grudge, especially against someone she has a good laugh with. Octavia is more of a challenge, though. She’s much more serious and no-bullshit. She might require a bit more groveling.

“What about you, O? I promise I won’t lie to you again as long as we’re friends. And I hope that’s going to be for a very long time,” she says hopefully. _Smooth, thinks_ Lexa. _My girl has such a way with words. If we ever have an argument I might as well not even bother._

“Alright, Clarke. I guess I didn’t think about how you must have been feeling pretty confused. No more lies though, ok?”

“Definitely not.”

“We should have another girls’ night soon; I’ll even promise to get just as wasted as you lot,” she laughs and Raven mutters something that sounds like ‘finally, grandma.’ Clarke grins and looks at Lexa with a relieved look on her face.

“You’re both coming to the cast party tomorrow, right?”

“Is the sky blue? Is sex the best thing ever invented? Am I the most talented actress to ever be born? Of course we’re going to the bloody cast party. See you then, lover girls,” Raven blows a loud, wet kiss at the phone and hangs up.

“That girl, I swear…” Clarke chuckles.

“I told you they wouldn’t stay mad at you for long.”

“And you were right. Teach me your ways, oh wise lesbian guru.”

“Just wise guru will do fine, thank you.”

“Boring. Am I allowed to call you my lesbian guru in the bedroom?”

“If you ever call me that again, we won’t be going near a bedroom,” she glares, trying to feign seriousness.

“Oh well, we can’t have that, can we. Fine then ‘just wise guru’ will you teach me how to make that pasta thing you cooked me the other day?”

“I like how you went straight from me teaching you about sex to me teaching you about food.”

“Well, if I’m not thinking about one of those things I’m probably thinking about the other.”

“Understandable. I’m sure I can handle schooling you in the ways of pasta, but that was an _extremely_ simple recipe, Clarke.”

“I know, but I’m useless.”

Lexa sighs and gets up off the sofa. “Fine. I clearly have a lot to teach you.”

Clarke smooths down her top where it’s still a little creased from their impromptu couch grinding session. Her eyes follow the back of Lexa as she heads towards the kitchen, settling on her ass. She licks her lips.

“You have no idea.”

***

Clarke cheers loudly and high fives Lincoln as she sinks another ball, leaving only the black one on the table for their team whilst Raven and Octavia were still contending with 5 of theirs. Lincoln, who knew all too well about Clarke’s prowess when it came to pool, had challenged Raven and his girlfriend to a match against him and Clarke, where the losers would have to buy the winners drinks for the duration of the evening. Octavia knew Lincoln was a decent player but couldn’t imagine it being a strong suit of Clarke’s, and her competitive streak couldn’t resist the challenge. She was sorely regretting that decision now as she watched Lincoln sink the black in one attempt and turn to her triumphantly. He shrugs as if to say ‘what can you do’ and Octavia wants to slap him. Gently. On the lips. With her mouth. She is about to do just that when Clarke shoves her empty glass into Octavia’s hand and informs her that she’s drinking vodka lemonades and she would like another one, please. Even Raven has run out of sassy comebacks and drags Octavia wordlessly to the bar to buy drinks for their conquerors.

“Great game, Princess,” Lincoln grins at her and raises his half full glass to hers before downing it. He smacks his lips and looks around, grinning. “This is a great party. You guys must be so proud of how everything turned out with the film.”

“Thanks, Linc. Yeah, I mean I know am. Bell’s probably still stressing about whether Seth should have been standing 14cm further to the left in Scene 19. He’s crazy,” she laughs.

“Crazy in a good way, I think. You can see how passionate he is about directing and I think it’s great. We’re like the holy trinity now. Writer, director and actress,” he beams, pleased with himself for this little revelation.

“Huh, I guess you’re right. It’s been great working with both of you again.”

“But not as great as working with a certain other member of the cast, right?” he jokes, nudging her in the stomach.

“Oh, shut it. And that reminds me, you two have got to stop calling me Princess.”

“Why?”

“Because, if you keep doing it she’ll notice and she’ll ask me the reason behind it,” Clarke sighs exasperatedly.

“I think she should know the reason behind it, Clarke. It’s going to be very relevant to her in the future.” Lincoln is smirking, barely containing his laughter. A devilish look overcomes his features as he gets an idea. “In fact, seeing as when I first started dating Octavia you and Bellamy told her about the time 3 years ago that I got so drunk I had to be rescued by my mom, I think I might return the favor. Humiliation for humiliation, you know? Even the playing field,” he turns in the direction of the bar, still smirking, and Clarke grabs his elbow.

“You are not going over there to tell her why my nickname is Princess. That’s not even a question. You’re just not.” She tries to sound threatening.

“Of course I’m not. I’m going over there to tell her to ask you about it,” and with that 6’2” of him is dancing out of her grip and speeding towards Lexa. Clarke doesn’t even have time to respond before he’s whispering in Lexa’s ear and she’s heading towards her, looking extremely confused.

Clarke stares at the floor and pleads silently with it to swallow her whole. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. Lexa arrives in front of her, as beautiful as ever, her forehead creased adorably as she tries to establish what had just gone on between Clarke and her old friend.

“Lincoln wants me to ask you why he and Bellamy call you Princess. I didn’t even know that was even a thing. I’m very confused.”

Clarke groans audibly. She hadn’t even noticed the nickname. She could have got away with it for so much longer if it wasn’t for her meddlesome friend. She looks over to Lincoln who is now stood with Bellamy looking right back at her. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen two grown men look so chuffed. You’d think their football team had just won the league or something. Or baseball. Or basketball. Whatever it was that men got excited about.

She tries a weak excuse. “Oh, it’s nothing…just, you know, I always get what I want and stuff…”

“He said that you’d say that and he said that’s not it.”

_Damn. They both know me too well. Here goes, I guess._

“Ugh, fine. Do you know what a pillow princess is?”

Lexa’s face contorts slightly as she tries to refrain from laughing.

“Clarke, I’m a lesbian. Of course I know what a pillow princess is.”

“Well, as it turns out it’s not just a queer girl thing. I had this boyfriend, years ago, his name was Nathan and he was a total ass. I guess he felt like he wasn’t getting enough…attention, in bed, or whatever, and he went bitching about it to Lincoln and Bell. They thought it was hilarious and started calling me Pillow Princess. Over the years the name just got shortened and, you know, thank god, because now no one knows what it actually means. Unless one of them does this, of course.” She is blushing furiously and refuses to look up at Lexa’s reaction.

Lexa had told herself she wasn’t going to laugh. This was clearly something Clarke felt very uncomfortable about it and she didn’t want her to be embarrassed about it. But she can’t help it. The implications are just too funny.

“Wait, wait, I don’t understand. How can you even be a pillow princess in het sex? You’re both getting off at the same time, aren’t you?” If she hadn’t had so much wine already this evening, she might have been better able to censor herself, but she figures Clarke isn’t going to hold it against her.

Clarke, who finds this whole thing significantly less hilarious than Lexa apparently does, raises her eyes to the ceiling and wishes with all her heart that she didn’t have to explain this. She’s never going to live it down.

“Oh god, I can’t believe you’re going to make me say this. This was only with him, I swear, because he was really bad at, um, fucking, but I’d always get him to….do stuff…to me and then never, uhm…do it back.” _Come on floor. Open up. It’s the least you could do._

When Lexa has caught her breath from her hysterical laughing fit, she pulls Clarke towards her and places her hands gently on her hips. “You are so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed would be putting it lightly. I’d say mortified.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t make fun of you anymore.”

“I would appreciate that,” huffs Clarke.

“Except, you know, I have to know, are you _still_ a pillow princess? I don’t mind, of course, it’s just it would be nice to know in advance,” she bursts out laughing again, unable to resist a final jibe.

Clarke has had enough. _Time to turn this around. We’ll see if she’s laughing in a minute._

“Ha ha,” she responds sarcastically. “Laugh all you want. But if you must know, I’m so focused on _not_ being one when we, you know, _fuck,_ ” she emphasizes the word on purpose and simultaneously slides her hand into the back pocket of Lexa’s jeans, pulling her forward so that their hips meet. She squeezes gently and runs her other hand up Lexa’s side, deliberately brushing the side of her breast, lightly at first, and then harder. Lexa visibly jerks and Clarke can’t help but notice she isn’t laughing anymore. She’s eager to continue her little trick.

“So I did some…,” she pauses, looking for the right word, “ _research._ And I must say, I have learned an awful lot about how to please a woman,” she toys with the bottom of Lexa’s shirt and sneaks the palm of her hand underneath, running her fingers gently along the skin just about her waistband. She thinks the little jump she feels in Lexa’s stomach when she touches her there might be the sexiest thing she’s ever experienced. “So if anyone is going to be a ‘pillow princess’, when I finally have my way with you, it’s not going to be me, I assure you. I’m not even going to let you touch me until you’ve had at least 3 -,”

“Stop talking,” Lexa’s words come out as one long breath, as she tries to focus on keeping it steady when Clarke has one hand on her ass and the other drawing circles on her bare hip. She doesn’t succeed, her breaths coming out shallow and erratic. Even she thinks it’s a bit ridiculous, the effect Clarke has on her. A minute ago she was laughing her head off, teasing her mercilessly, and now she’s one dirty whisper away from dragging her into a bathroom stall and pinning her against a wall. She’s starting to think that waiting is a stupid idea. Just as she’s about to say as much, Clarke removes both of her hands and steps away cleanly.

“That’s what you get for teasing me,” she says triumphantly.

“What, I get to be teased right back?”

“Yep. And I promise you, you’re always going to be the one that ends up more frustrated in this scenario.”

“I hate you,” she shifts from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

“You can thank me later,” Clarke blows her a kiss as she turns on her heel and heads back to Octavia for her free drink. Lexa just stands there, dumbfounded. She used to think of herself as someone who was very much in control, but Clarke has managed to overthrow everything she thought she knew about herself. She has her completely wrapped around her little finger, and she can’t even deny that she loves every second of it.

***

Clarke glances at her phone and sees that it’s almost 2am. The party, which had moved from one of Bellamy’s favorite pubs to Stars the nightclub about 3 hours before, is still in full swing. She’s sat round a table in a booth with Bellamy and Lincoln (who had been informed earlier that they were in the doghouse until further notice), Raven, Octavia and Clarke’s old friends Monty and Jasper who had just joined them. Lexa is on the dancefloor with some of the other cast members, putting them to absolute shame with her jaw dropping moves even after all the wine she’s consumed. Clarke is surprised that Lexa has gotten so drunk, expecting her to be her normal, reserved self, but she doesn’t mind at all. She actually thinks it’s pretty funny, especially considering Lexa’s wine consumption had approximately tripled in speed after the little stunt Clarke had pulled. _Did she need a distraction, perhaps?_ Clarke knows she could use one, as her eyes follow Lexa around the dancefloor as if of their own accord. She brings herself back into reality and focuses on the game of I Have Never going on around her. She definitely thought she was rid of this blasted game when she left high school, until she got to college, and then thought she might be rid of it again when left college until she realized she was still friends with Bellamy Blake, and he was never going to let it go. She shakes her head as the outrageously inappropriate statements fly around the circle. Lincoln goes with ‘I have never had sex in a public swimming pool’ and Raven grins and takes a long slurp of her drink. Clarke thinks an air of mystery never did any harm between friends.

She is just considering getting up and joining her girlfriend on the dancefloor when she realizes there are 6 pairs of eyes trained on her, and she must have missed someone’s question in her musings. “What?”

“You’re not listening,” says Jasper. “The game doesn’t work unless everyone is paying attention.” _Right, how could I forget about Jasper’s obsession with strict adherence to drinking game rules? Especially when they involve hearing girls tell stories about their sex lives._ She rolls her eyes.

“Sorry, the noise makes it kind of hard to concentrate. What was the question?”

“I said I have never been a pillow princess,” says Bellamy helpfully.

“Oh screw you,” she doesn’t even bother to deny it, having had enough of discussing that nickname for one evening. She takes a long draw of her vodka lemonade through the straw. It tastes delicious. She wonders why that’s always the way as you get more and more drunk.

“I have never….had sex with a girl!” Octavia shouts excitedly. Clarke pales. She knows Octavia only used that one so that Clarke would be forced to answer the question all her friends had been dying to ask but didn’t have the guts to. Jasper, Lincoln and Raven drink up and Monty high fives Bellamy for being ‘gold star gays’, before every head in the circle turns to her expectantly.

“You’re all nosy fucks. If you perverts must know, I don’t have to drink to that.”

“Really?!” Octavia snorts in surprise. “You two honestly haven’t fucked yet? I thought you were about to jump each other’s bones right there in the bar earlier.”

Clarke, for the second time that evening, wishes she could disappear. She doesn’t like talking about this with them. It’s between her and Lexa and she’s the only one she wants to discuss it with.

“That was, uh, just a stupid game…” she looks down at the table. “We haven’t even been together that long, and she was away for a couple of weeks. We’re trying to take it slow.”

“Trying, I love that. In fairness, if she was my girlfriend I’d have to try pretty hard not to fuck her too,” says Raven. Clarke tries not to visibly bristle. She loves Raven but she’s going to have to stop making comments like that about Lexa or Clarke’s jealous side is going to make an unwanted appearance. She just laughs uncomfortably.

“It’s too bad; I hear she’s _great_ in bed.”

Clarke can’t help but raise her eyebrows skeptically at that. “And where exactly did you hear that? US Weekly?”

Raven, unfazed, just taps her nose and says “I have my sources.”

Clarke shrugs. “Whatever. I’m going to dance with my girlfriend and leave you guys you to your inappropriate prying.” Raven sticks her tongue out at her as she goes and Bellamy taps her lightly on the ass. “Try and control yourself, Princess,” he winks.

She ignores him and heads towards the low lights of the dancefloor, leaving her now empty glass on a table as she goes. She normally hates the music they play at Stars, it’s all chart music and she feels like she’s back at a high school dance, but getting to dance with Lexa is just too tempting an offer to refuse. Lexa currently has her eyes closed, just swaying her hips subtly in time with the beat, and Clarke sneaks up behind her and winds both her arms around her waist.

“Guess who?”

“Mmm…let me guess, blonde hair, smells amazing, great boobs…Jessica Capshaw, is that you?” she jokes, referring to their favorite actress from Greys Anatomy. She turns in Clarke’s arms and presses a soft kiss to her lips, murmuring “oh no wait, it’s just Clarke.”

“You’d rather me than Jessica Capshaw any day, don’t even deny it.”

“That is very, very true. I would, in fact, rather you than anyone else in the world,” she slurs, resting her head on Clarke’s shoulder and swaying them gently. She knows it’s mostly the alcohol talking, but the sentiment still makes her heart pound. Feeling so strongly for someone makes Clarke giddy in itself, but knowing the feeling is mutual is a whole other feeling, like nothing she’s ever felt before. She kisses the side of Lexa’s neck and hums to the song against her skin. At the sensation Lexa can’t help but buck her hips backwards into Clarke, and Clarke feels adrenaline and arousal rush through her like a shot, recognizing the familiar twisting in her stomach and the heat between her legs. She had never experienced being turned on this way until Lexa. Sure, she’d enjoyed sex with her ex-boyfriends, but she’d only ever felt turned on once they were in the act. Lexa only had to look at her the right way, or accidentally reveal a normally covered strip of skin for Clarke’s whole body to feel like it’s on fire. She’s constantly thinking about what it would be like to watch her come apart because of her, what it would be like to be inside her, to taste her. The desire is overwhelming and she’s desperate to share it with the gorgeous girl who is now subtly grinding her ass against Clarke’s center. Luckily, the crowd around them have dispersed slightly, probably having seen the two of them together and figured they might like some privacy. They were right.

Clarke is so turned on she feels as if her throat is constricted and she struggles to find the oxygen to say what she wants to say next. Spinning Lexa round and tightening her grip on her hips, she nestles her face into the crook of her neck and whispers:

“Do you want to know a secret?”

“Uh huh,” she murmurs in reply.

“What you said yesterday on the couch, about not being able to do that for hours. You weren’t the only one. Just looking at you turns me on; you can’t even imagine what kissing you does to me.”

Lexa goes still for a second, before inhaling deeply and turning her head to look at Clarke. She moves her hand round from its previous position on the small of Clarke’s back to the hem of her skirt, playing with the edge where it meets the silky smooth skin of Clarke’s thigh. She whispers back, feeling braver than she ever has before.

“Is that so? Do I turn you on, Clarke? Does kissing me make you wet?” She says it so slowly, so sensually that Clarke has to suppress a moan. She’s still toying with the hem of her dress and the feeling is absolutely divine.

“You don’t even have to kiss me for that. I’m wet right now,” and as she says this she guides Lexa’s leg in between her own and grinds down gently, so that she can feel it for herself. Lexa’s breath catches in her throat and she lets out a noise that is somewhere between a whine and a groan. It’s the sexiest sound Clarke has ever heard.

“And you know something else? No one has ever made me wet like you do, Lexa. I’m _soaked_ , and it’s all for you,” she is whispering against the corner of Lexa’s mouth now, so close they are almost kissing as Clarke speaks. Lexa can feel every filthy word vibrating against her own lips as soon as Clarke says them. She’s so turned on she can barely think. If you’d asked her where they were right now, she’d probably have been unable to give you an answer. She is, however, painfully aware of Clarke and the effect she’s having on her.

“I think you’ve ruined my underwear again,” Her mouth has gone completely dry and it's unsurprising that her voice comes out low and husky.

“Again? When did I ruin your underwear before?”

“Too many times, Clarke, too many times.”

"Have you ever...touched yourself...because of me?" Clarke debates whether to say this for approximately half a second before deciding they've already crossed any boundaries they may have had before, so why not make the most of it? She thinks she's addicted to the way Lexa's voice changes when she's turned on and talking dirty.

Lexa's first impulse is to lie.

"No."

"I don't think I believe you. If I turn you on the way you say I do, there must have been moments where it all just becomes...too much." She pauses and drops her lips back to the shell of Lexa's ear to whisper: "I know I have."

Lexa does nothing except inhale slightly and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. Clarke's eyes follow this movement hungrily.

"I'm not going to answer that."

"I think you just did."

"Fine. If you must know, Clarke, you drive me absolutely fucking crazy. I think about you all the time. Mostly just about stupid things, like your smile or how adorably stubborn you are, but you're always on my damn mind. And at night, when I'm alone, maybe I do like to imagine you next to me, on top of me, kissing me and letting me touch you. So what if I imagine my hand is yours in the shower. You're irresistible. You're so fucking sexy, you invade my every waking thought, and sometimes my dreams too, and damn if those nights weren't some of the best -,"

All this has become a bit much for Clarke, who finally closes the gap between them and shuts her up before they both implode. The kiss is messy and desperate, both trying to satisfy their craving for each other with just one kiss. Clarke pulls Lexa impossibly closer, and starts grinding her hips down again on Lexa's thigh.

Lexa has a sneaking suspicion that Clarke isn't wearing any underwear, and this does nothing to help the situation between her own legs.

They stay that way for a few minutes, lost in a haze of lust and adoration. When Lexa stumbles slightly and Clarke has to steady her, they are both reminded how much they've had to drink and that it's more than likely the reason for their sudden bravado. Clarke slows the kiss and whispers, once more against Lexa's lips, "let's just dance, OK? We've got all the time in the world."

Lexa complies, spinning them so that Clarke is pressed to her front, kissing the top of her head as they move in time to the music. So far she has been almost unaware of the music playing, Clarke occupying all her senses and blinding her to the outside world. She notices now though that one of her favourites is playing, and sings quietly along.

_I'm so into you_

_I can barely breathe_

_All I wanna do is fall in deep_

_But close ain't close enough_

_'Til we cross the line_

 

_Oh baby, look what you started_

_The temperature's rising in here_

_Is this gonna happen?_

_This could take some time, hey_

_I made too many mistakes_

_Better get this right, baby_

_Got everyone watching us, so baby, let's keep it secret_

_A little bit scandalous, but baby, don't let them see it_

_A little less conversation and a little more touch my body_

_'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you_

 

Lexa feels completely at peace. Of course the alcohol helps to rid her of her worries, but mostly she just feels drunk on Clarke. She wonders if it's normal to feel like every love song was written about them. She thinks back to when she was younger, and everything was about either sex or drugs. She didn't have the time or the level of interest required for love, or any real connections for that matter. Even when she was drunk or high back then, there was always an undercurrent of fear, anxiety and frustration, and no amount of alcohol or dirty dancing could fix that. She had never felt like this; like everything in the universe had come together to make this moment perfect for her, everything had worked out just so that she could feel blissfully happy for a minute. She has the perfect girl, and they've had a perfect day with their friends, and nothing is going to take that away from her.

***

"Do we look like that when we dance?" Lincoln wonders aloud, taking Octavia's hand as they prepare to leave the club.

Octavia looks over to Clarke and Lexa on the dance floor and scoffs. "Like we're completely and utterly in love and have forgotten that a world exists outside of the two of us? No, I don't think so. But on the plus side, we're both way better dancers than Clarke," she grins and pulls him in for a kiss. 

"I don't think Lexa minds Clarke's dancing," he chuckles. 

"Lexa doesn't mind anything Clarke does. She could probably murder her puppy and she would say thank you."

"Clarke would never murder a puppy, she fucking loves dogs, but you make a good point."

"Just because we don't look like  _that,_ doesn't make us any less in love, you know. They're just in the honeymoon stage. They'll come down from it eventually and land in amongst the rest of us mere mortals."

He grins. "I do love you, you know. I feel like I don't say it enough."

"Always and forever?"

"Always and forever."

Raven makes loud gagging noises from behind them and pushes herself right into the space between them, forcing them apart. "Why is everyone around me so nauseatingly in love? Even Bellamy's at it, grinning at his phone like a little kid every 10 seconds -,"

"Bellamy has a boyfriend? I didn't know that," says Lincoln, confused. 

"I don't think this guy's his boyfriend, but I think he'd like him to be. At least that's what I've gathered from my careful observation of him over the last couple of hours, and I haven't been wrong about anything since 1994."

"What happened in 1994?" 

"I said that boys were gross and I would never touch one. I was four, you'll forgive me."

They all laugh. Octavia looks around for the rest of the group but realises they must have already left. 

"Speaking of gross, will someone go cockblock those two so that I can go home?" Octavia looks hopefully at Lincoln. 

"Oh, not me, no way. I'm not allowed to talk to Clarke without her express permission after forcing her to tell Lexa about the pillow princess thing," he looks sheepish. 

Raven looks torn between finding out more about 'the pillow princess thing' and separating Clarke and Lexa so that she can finally get her ride in Lexa's limo. The limo wins. 

"Ok, you two, time to go!" She walks not so subtly straight through the middle of them, causing them to spring apart. Lexa is quite clearly drunk. She blinks sleepily at Raven as if she momentarily cannot remember who she is, and sways slightly to the right, only staying upright when Clarke slides an arm around her shoulder. 

"Lead the way, Ray," Clarke says cheerily, following the other three up the steps of the club and out onto the street, where James and the limo are waiting as always. She is genuinely baffled by this. She knows for a fact that neither she nor Lexa called him, and yet he seems to always just  _know._

The journalists and their cameras also appear as if from nowhere, crowding around the small group and yelling the same old questions in their faces.

"Lexa, who are your new friends?"

"Lexa, what can you tell us about upcoming projects?"

"Lexa, what happened between you and Niylah Murphy?"

Clarke zones them out, as Lexa has taught her to do, and just concentrates on making it to the waiting doors of her girlfriend's limo. She pushes through the mass of people and flashing lights, shielded from behind by Sam and Elliot (who had been acting as bouncers at Stars tonight to ensure that no one suspicious made it anywhere near Lexa), and from in front by Raven who is posing to her heart's content, loving every second of her newfound media attention. It doesn't seem to matter to her that the cameras aren't exactly directed at her. Life is always a photo shoot for Raven Reyes, and if she's going to be in the side of a photo of Lexa Woods, then she's damn well going to look hot in it.

Clarke tries to shield Lexa as best she can, thinking that appearing drunk out of her mind and hardly able to walk in the press tomorrow won't go down particularly well with her manager, whilst Lexa herself doesn't seem to care. She grins sloppily at all the cameras and grips tightly onto Clarke; She's proud of her new relationship and she doesn't want there to be any doubt in the paparazzi's eyes about who her date is.   

After what seems like forever, they make it through the throng of people. (Clarke marvels once again at their dedication: it must be at least 4am).

Lincoln, Octavia and Raven get in first, looking incredulously around them at the interior of the fancy car. Clarke huddles around Lexa in the corner, trying and failing to get her to stay awake. 

Raven loudly announces that although Lexa's limo is 'totally fucking fantastic', she's going to have one even cooler, even longer and even shinier, with a driver who will be 'completely fuckable.' She even goes so far as to lean through the partition and apologise to James, who, unsurprisingly, doesn't seem too upset. Octavia just grins at her best friend and buries her head in Lincoln's voluminous shoulders. 

After they have dropped the other three off, Clarke asks James if he can just head to her place rather than carry on to Lexa's, as it's much closer. She's surprised that he obeys her command without question, and thinks that's a good sign for their relationship, that Lexa's driver thinks she's significant enough to take orders from. She didn't think he even knew how to talk to anyone that wasn't 'Ms. Woods'. 

Speaking of which, she looks down at the sleeping form beside her, curled up on the leather seat, heels discarded, levitating a strand of hair with every puff of breath. Even completely wasted and almost passed out, Clarke finds her breathtaking. She had genuinely never felt so whole in her entire life than she did that afternoon and evening, laughing and drinking and dancing with Lexa, free to tell anyone and everyone that she was her girlfriend. Although the time for their big moment has passed tonight, Clarke doesn't feel any frustration. Like she'd said to her on the dancefloor, they had all the time in the world, and so far each day by Lexa's side was better than the one before. She leans down to check she's definitely asleep and then presses a light kiss to her forehead. Consumed with the smell of her perfume and the feel of her sleep filled limbs wrapped around her waist, she can't help herself. She whispers, so softly she's not sure if the words even left her lips.

"I love you." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.....what did you guys think of that?? How am I doing at writing steamy clexa? I'm doing my best, but i may wake up in the morning and realise I hate it all. Do comment if you have any feedback, even if it's negative (as long as you're nice about it :P) I want to learn.  
> A slight mention of Lexa doing drugs when was younger, there's some backstory coming for that. And also how cute are Linctavia? Their little saying is a blatant reference to Naley from One Tree Hill (one of TV's all time best couples). The song is Into You by Ariana Grande if anyone was wondering. I can't remember what else I wanted to comment on as that chapter was so loooooong. Comment what you think and you might jog my memory.  
> Hope you're still enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing. :D I'm @HARMONSANGEL on twitter or jedihaught on tumblr, and I love you all very much.  
> \- Amy x
> 
> *I also added in a little bit at the end of the chapter about the paparazzi outside the club. It might seem a little unnecessary but I had a couple of comments about how it seems unrealistic that there aren't always cameras around her, and that seemed like a good point, so I've amended this chapter and will bear it in mind going forward :) *


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This really is a mini chapter. I don't know why I didn't just bung it on the end of the last one tbh, but I can't put it in with the next one because there's a three week time jump and the next one goes much better on it's own. Anyway chapter 15 in which Clarke is being the responsible one and Lexa is adorable.

“Good morning sunshine,” Clarke bends down to place a brief kiss on Lexa’s cheek and sets a mug of freshly made coffee down on her nightstand. She sits herself down on the edge of the bed.

Lexa stirs slightly and wakes up, nose crinkling and a sleepy smile dawning on her face.

“Do I smell coffee?” she murmurs.

“Freshly made. For that pounding headache I know you’re about to have.”

Lexa sits up slowly and winces, rubbing her forehead delicately. “You’re right about that.”

Clarke hands her the mug and Lexa wraps both hands around it lovingly and dips her head to inhale the delicious scent.

“I think the scent of coffee in the morning could cure all the world’s problems, you know.”

“It certainly cures all of mine,” Clarke smiles and chuckles slightly at Lexa’s somewhat crumpled appearance. By the time they’d arrived back at Clarke’s apartment in the early hours of the morning, Lexa was too tired and drunk to do anything except flop straight onto Clarke’s bed. She was snoring lightly within minutes. She even fell asleep with one shoe on, which Clarke had dutifully removed. Now she has woken up still wearing skinny jeans, a tank top and an extremely creased shirt with only one button still done up. Her blonde hair looks curlier than normal and some of it is sticking up vertically from the top of her head. Her eyes are only half open as she concentrates on nothing except consuming the coffee as rapidly as possible. She takes a long slurp and sets the mug down, looking up properly at Clarke for the first time.

“God, I wish the paparazzi could see you like this.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say. Why would you wish that kind of humiliation on me? Wait, why do you look so nice?”

“I don’t look particularly nice; I just don’t look like I slept in a glove compartment like you.” _Even though you still somehow look beautiful. How is that possible?_

“It’s 11. I woke up ages ago,” she explains.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because you looked adorable, and you were really tired last night. It was really early. The neighbors woke me up with their drilling. Again.”

“Wait…you told me you can’t hear that in here. Did you sleep on the _couch?!_ ”

“Yeah? Why?”

Lexa is lost for words. This is so completely unlike Clarke, and so completely something _she_ would normally do that her brain can’t process the information.

“What? Clarke, that’s ridiculous. We’re a couple. We can share a bed.”

“I know that, but it…it didn’t feel right, ok? You were really drunk, and I…I don’t know, the moment felt wrong to me. It’s no trouble, really, my couch is extremely comfortable.

 Lexa stares at her for a little while longer before raising one eyebrow: “You didn’t find my snoring sexy?”

“There are…sexier things about you, I will admit.” Clarke grins.

“Are you sure you weren’t just scared you wouldn’t be able to control yourself lying next to me? I mean, we did have a _very_ interesting conversation last night.”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe you remember that. I don’t know what came over me to say all that stuff, I’m sorry.”

“I know exactly what came over you. Approximately 9 vodka lemonades came over you, but don’t be sorry. It was the highlight of my week, plus I was just as bad.”

“I was grinding on your leg with no underwear on.”

“And I told you about all the wet dreams I’ve had about you.”

“Ok, maybe we were both pretty bad.”

“Really bad. And I _knew_ you weren’t wearing underwear.”

“I very rarely do in a dress.”

“Jesus, Clarke.”

“You’ll thank me for it one day.”

Lexa’s mouth goes dry and she reaches for her coffee. “I’m sure I will.”

“Anyway. I slept on the couch because one of us would have ended up fondling the other and we were too drunk to be in control of our actions.”

“You did not just use the word _fondling._ ”

“I think you’ll find that I did.”

“You would have loved being _fondled_ by me.”

“I would have. But you would have regretted it this morning, and I wouldn’t have loved that so much.”

“You make a good point.”

“I always do,” she says cheerily, kissing Lexa’s nose. Lexa seizes the moment and pulls her down from her sitting position so that they are lying side by side.

“Our roles have reversed, you know. Now you’re the one trying to be sensible and take things slow.”

“As hard as it is to resist you, I think you’re right. I want to be able to look back on those big moments in our relationship and reminisce about how they were perfect, and waiting for the perfect moment requires patience and restraint. After last night, I’m more certain than ever that it will be worth the wait.”

“I agree. Can I kiss you?”

“Um…”

“Is my breath that bad?”

“It’s worse.”

“Oh, Jesus,” says Lexa as she throws off the covers and rolls out of bed, heading in the direction of the bathroom. “But when I’m showered and clean and I smell like roses again, then can I kiss you?”

“I think that can probably be arranged.”

“What are we going to do today, by the way?” Clarke yells through the open bathroom door and tries not to stare as Lexa sheds strips off her jeans and shirt and stands in front of the mirror in nothing but her underwear.

“Well I was told there was going to be some kissing,” Lexa teases.

“After the kissing.”

“James is coming at 12. He can take me home or we can go out somewhere, do something fun?”

“Does Christmas shopping count as fun?”

“It does if I’m with you.”

“Well, that’s settled then. Now I’m going to go make you some breakfast because if I have to stare at your perfect ass for another second I’m going to pounce on you.”

Lexa just laughs. “Don’t burn my eggs!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How cute are they? 
> 
> Next one is a big one.
> 
> enjoy x


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Eve and things escalate. 
> 
> *If you're one of the people I tag on twitter when I post a new chapter, I posted a new one this morning but didn't tag anyone, so make sure you read that one before you read this one. It's not particularly significant so you might not notice you'd missed one, but it is really cute so I advise you read it! Enjoy *

**5 weeks later (Christmas Eve)**

For the first time in her life, Clarke feels like Christmas has snuck up on her. She is one of those people who never really grew out of the thrill and excitement of the run up to Christmas, who continued to count down the days in December well into her twenties. Christmas reminded her of her father, of sitting on his knee in front of the fire being spoiled rotten, of singing and laughing and eating until she was unable to move. Even after Jake was gone, she still loved the holiday. She felt closest to him at Christmas, because their routine was so solid and memorable it was almost as if he was right beside her whole time. It was her favorite time of year, and it was always too long coming. Until this year.

This year, she was so preoccupied with everything else, she hardly had time to sleep, let alone miss Jake, and surprisingly she found that she didn’t even mind. He would have been happiest seeing her like this, rushing around like a madwoman searching for new projects, editing with Bellamy, seeing friends and most of all, spending time with her girlfriend. It was a good thing she'd gotten most of her shopping done on a whirlwind trip with Lexa at the start of the month, because she’d been busy almost every single day since then. The 100 was going into filming of its last season, and she’d started looking for projects based in LA that she could start in April when she was finished on the show. She told herself (and everyone else) it was simply because LA was the obvious place to be for an actress, and she was tired of shooting way out in Canada away from everybody else. In reality it had very little to do with that and a lot more to do with a certain famous actress who was based in LA for most of the year. Not that she had any guarantees that she and Lexa would still be together in April, but she hoped they would be, and had no desire to be separated from her by 2777 miles (yes, she'd looked it up). In addition to endless hours of interviews and looking over scripts, she'd promised to see Octavia and Raven at least 3 times a week as they'd sworn to not let the end of the film be the end of their friendship. She's so glad to have met them. She feels like she’d never had a proper group of girlfriends (friends that are girls, she reminds herself), like the ones she used to see and envy in high school. She’d always got on better with guys, and as she got older she found herself with very few close friends except for Lincoln and Bellamy, who at the time were all she thought she needed. She's glad to have been proven wrong by the two giggling brunettes who seemed to talk about nothing but acting, alcohol and sex.

And of course, in every spare second she can find, she's with Lexa. Lexa is equally busy, having finally gathered up the courage to fire Titus, she’s spent the majority of December conducting interviews to find a new one with the help of her friend Anya. Obviously, there are a fair few applicants for the position. And when she says ‘a fair few’, she means hundreds. Most of them are useless, uninspiring, lacking the necessary experience, creepy or all of the above, and she cannot wait for the whole process to be over. If she has to sit through one more interview with a man who knows very little about her actual career but way too much about her personal life, she thinks she may just give up acting all together.

She expresses this to Clarke as she collapses into the armchair in her apartment after a particularly long day. They’ve been spending most of their time at Clarke’s place, mostly because of its convenient location but also because Raven and the rest of the gang just seem to feel more comfortable here, and to be honest Lexa doesn’t really blame them. Getting a fancy apartment on the Upper East Side had been Niylah’s idea, and Lexa had enjoyed it for a while, but now it just felt a little false. It was too spacious, too extravagant and Lexa really didn’t need all that room for herself. Sleeping in that huge bedroom by herself just felt a bit pathetic. She felt like the apartment was tied to Niylah and the past, and she wanted a clean break.

She did spend some nights with Clarke, but one or both of them would sleep on the sofa, adhering to Clarke’s rules of waiting for the perfect moment. Lexa has now pointed out multiple times that they could easily just sleep in the same bed without doing anything more, but Clarke seems to have her heart set on waiting, so she doesn’t push it.

Tonight, they are hosting their friends for a Christmas Eve dinner, before people disappear off to spend the actual day with various family members or significant others. Clarke has finally managed to acquire a free day, just in time for Christmas, and has been toiling away all morning cleaning up the apartment. When Lexa tumbles through the door at about 2pm after a morning of interviews and collapses on the sofa, Clarke immediately drops the duster she was wielding and plops down beside her.

“Another tough day?”

“The human race continues to confound me with their stupidity,” she replies, shutting her eyes for a blessed moment.

Clarke lies down too and curls herself around the back of Lexa, tangling their legs and pushing her warm hands inside the flaps of her jacket. “Here, let me warm you up. Why are you so cold? Didn’t James drive you home?” She asks, alarmed.

“I wanted to walk. Clear my head a bit. I may have underestimated the weather though, I don’t think it really counts as clearing your head when it just freezes solid instead.”

“Spoken like a true star, who’s never had to walk anywhere in her life,” Clarke teases. “So Sam and Elliot had to walk as well? Poor guys.”

“I genuinely think they’re made of stone, so I wouldn’t worry.”

“Did you smile for the cameras like I told you to?”

“I did my best.”

Clarke sits back up and starts sifting through the collection of magazines and newspapers that is accumulating on her coffee table. She had gotten into the habit of buying one every time she and Lexa featured in it, because it always gave them a good laugh to read about themselves. Clarke had noticed that Lexa had developed a resting bitch face when the cameras were around. “They’ll think _I’m_ making you miserable,” she’d joked.

Lexa had responded with “well then, I will tell them that’s not the case,” and true to her word she had done just that the next time a microphone had been shoved in her face, attached to journalist questioning her about ‘her new woman.’ Clarke smiles as she her eyes drift over that particular column. She’s read it 100 times and it never ceases to make her day.

_When asked about her new relationship, Miss Woods was glowing with praise. “Her name is Clarke Griffin, and she’s a fantastic actress and part time director before she’s my girlfriend. She has inspired me to make some changes in my professional life, and all for the better. She makes me very, very happy and I’m devoted to doing the same for her, and I’m hopeful that I’ll be giving you a similar answer to that question in years to come._

Clarke brushes her fingers over the picture of Lexa from that day, cheeks pink from the cold and blonde curls escaping her hat, sporting an ear splitting smile. She wonders how she always manages to look so beautiful yet maintain her air of professionalism. She is an inspiration to Clarke, but in the last few months her motivations have changed from wanting to be Lexa, to just wanting to be by her side. They would make a great pair on that red carpet, as equals of course, but Clarke is certain that they would complement each other in the best way possible. Then, Clarke might be a little biased.

She continues her perusal of their media coverage, laughing as she always did at the picture of the two of them where Raven has executed a perfect photo bomb, standing in the corner of the photo affecting her ‘double chin’ face, which in reality is more of a nine chins face. Clarke admires her self-assurance. Raven has managed to find the perfect balance between being driven and not taking herself too seriously. She’s in a lot of their photos, mostly looking lovely with only one chin, and Clarke’s glad she’s getting the attention she deserves. The media somehow managed to identify the unknown actress in the photos, and Raven tells Clarke her phone hasn’t stopped ringing with job offers since.

Speaking of Raven, she realizes they don’t have too much time until their guests will be arriving, and they’ll need to start cooking soon. Or, Lexa will need to start cooking soon, as Clarke and her short attention span have been banned from the kitchen for tonight.

 She looks over to the lump on the sofa next to her and realizes she has fallen asleep, still in her thick winter coat and boots. Lexa has the ability to fall asleep faster than anyone Clarke has ever known, and she’s almost always still dressed. Clarke decides to wake her up with a nice surprise.

She's asleep half sitting up, so Clarke doesn’t have too much difficulty sliding her coat off her arms and onto the floor. She then leans right over her and slips one warm hand under the bottom of her shirt, smoothing it over the smooth plane of her bare stomach, loving the way her touch causes goosebumps even when she’s only semi-conscious. She leans forward further and wakes her up by pressing their lips together. Lexa’s lips are ice cold and Clarke can’t resist touching her tongue to them gently, trying to warm her up in every way possible. Of course, all this serves to do is wake Lexa up feeling particularly warm in one area only.

She’s turned on before she’s even fully awake, and thinks this might be the most pleasant sensation she’s ever woken up to: Clarke’s lips on hers and her hand tickling the bare skin of her abdomen.

“Ummph,” she moans, opening her mouth wider to allow Clarke access and kissing her back lazily. They break apart for a second.

“That was a nice surprise.”

“I haven’t kissed you in a few days, and I missed it. I was supposed to be waking you up to get started on dinner, but this is way more fun,” she says, dipping her lips to Lexa’s neck and nipping gently.

“Mmmm…you kissed me, uh, oh yeah, that’s great, um, yesterday,” she tries to speak some sense but it’s a real struggle with Clarke sucking lightly on the sensitive skin just above her collarbone.

“It wasn’t long enough,” Clarke murmurs, and Lexa feels the vibrations against her skin reverberate all through her body and settle between her legs.

“We made out against a wall in a restroom for 10 minutes,” Lexa tries, taking deep breaths through her nose and trying to settle the somersaults in her stomach.

“It _wasn’t_ long enough,” Clarke says again, and brings her lips back up to meet Lexa’s. “Or hot enough,” she whispers as she goes back in for another kiss.

Clarke’s dirty kisses are back in full force as her tongue explores Lexa’s mouth with no mercy and her teeth bite down gently on her lower lip, pulling it into her own mouth and letting it go. This drives Lexa crazy and she whines into the kiss and grabs Clarke’s ass over her jeans, pulling her fully into her lap.

The kiss heats up even further, and they break apart every few seconds to gasp for breath. The sound of Clarke’s kissing-induced heavy breathing is Lexa’s kryptonite and she can feel dampness pooling in her underwear. Clarke is having a similar issue, and she scrapes her nails down Lexa’s stomach as one or both of them accidentally buck their hips and they meet in the most delicious way possible. It’s becoming increasingly harder for Clarke to resist either moving her hand higher over Lexa’s chest or dipping it lower into her jeans. She pulls away for a breather, just placing the palm of her hand flat against her stomach and halting the movement of her hips.

“Why does this always happen to us?” she sighs, looking straight into Lexa’s lust darkened eyes.

“Because we haven’t had sex yet and we both want to,” Lexa answers simply.

“And why haven’t we had sex yet?”

“Because we both wanted to wait?”

“That’s true but, what exactly are we waiting for?”

Lexa has to think about this. “To be ready, I guess? And not just physically ready, because we both know that’s not the issue, but like, romantically ready. I want you to be sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“About me. About us.”

“Well then…I think I am. I mean, I don’t have any doubts in my mind about you or about this relationship. When you said that line in your interview the other day, about hoping you can still talk about me in years to come, that made me so, so happy. All I could think about was how exciting it was that you still want me in your life in a few years, because I know I want you in mine. You must know I’m looking for a job in LA so that we can stay near each other, I’d think that’s fairly obvious. Every time I go to make a long term plan, every time I’m thinking about the future, I can’t do it without factoring you in. It’s crazy, I know, but I…,” she wonders if this is the right moment for the words she had whispered in the limo a month before. She decides against it. “I’m just, really invested in this relationship. I’m all in, Lexa. I’m sure, and I’m ready.”

Lexa is looking up at her awe, like she doesn’t know how she got so lucky.

“You’re not just saying this because of…well, because of what we’re doing right now? We are in a fairly compromising position,” she laughs, eyeing Clarke’s hand halfway up her shirt and her own resting on Clarke’s ass.

“No, definitely not,” Clarke shakes her head. “I mean, it doesn’t _have_ to be right now, but I’m saying I don’t think we should feel like we’re waiting any more. Unless you want to.”

“I…,” Lexa is lost for words. Their compromising positions coupled with Clarke’s little speech have scrambled her brain.

“You do? You want to wait?” Clarke takes her lack of answer the wrong way, and although she tries to keep the hurt from showing on her face, Lexa doesn’t miss it. She rushes to reassure her, putting her hands gently on either side of her face.

“I…am done waiting. I think I was always sure about you. About this. I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, and I want to share everything with you.”

They stare at each other for a few moments, grins slowly spreading on their faces as the implications of their talk hits them full force. Clarke presses their foreheads together.

“Kiss me.”

“As you wish,” Lexa replies cheekily before kissing her again, softly at first. Clarke becomes aware once again of the position of her hand, and makes the bold decision to slide it around Lexa’s back and reach for the clasp of her bra. She unclips it in one attempt and has to resist the urge to fist pump or something equally embarrassing.

“Why are you so good at everything? The first time I did that on a girl it took me bloody ages. I don’t even think we ended up going through with it because it made the whole thing so embarrassing.”

“I told you I did my research.”

“You practiced on yourself?”

“No.”

Lexa raises an eyebrow.

“Ok, yes.”

“It’s sexy.”

Clarke slides her hand back round and traces the soft skin under her breast with one finger.

“And so, mmmph, is that,” Lexa gasps, taking shallow breaths.

“Can I…?” Clarke grips the bottom of Lexa’s shirt with one hand and gestures upwards. Lexa nods, eyes never leaving Clarke’s. They pull her shirt off together, and once her arms are free from the sleeves her bra falls to the ground, leaving her bare and vulnerable. Clarke stares at her chest in wonder, tracing her hands down her sides, making sure to linger at the side of each breast, just brushing the skin there slightly with her thumbs. Lexa feels embarrassed about how hard her nipples are, but Clarke’s blown pupils make her feel slightly better about her body.

“So,” Lexa laughs nervously. She has tears in her eyes and she doesn’t even know why. This is the happiest she’s ever felt. “Do you still think boobs are awesome?”

“Boobs in general are awesome. Your boobs are _perfect_ ,” Clarke leans forward and presses another soft kiss to Lexa’s lips, tangling one hand in her hair as she moves the other one to cup her bare breast, stroking her nipple lightly with her thumb. Lexa’s response makes Clarke hungry for more, and she swallows her moans with hot, wet kisses as she moves her hand over to give the other one the same attention. Lexa can hardly concentrate on the kiss, she is breathing too heavily and she ends up breaking away, panting and moaning at the sight of Clarke’s hand on her chest. Clarke takes the opportunity to move her kisses downwards, leaving little marks along the column of her neck, nipping at her collarbones in the way she knows drives Lexa insane. The difference this time is that she carries on downwards, and when Lexa says her name in that low, husky voice, she thinks she may as well not even be wearing underwear now with the way she can feel wetness dripping down the insides of her thighs.

She presses a soft kiss to her nipple first, before swirling her tongue around it and eliciting Lexa’s loudest whimper yet. She’s moaning in the kind of way that might alert the neighbors, and for some reason Clarke finds that really, really hot. _Let them all hear how I can make my girlfriend scream_ , she thinks.

Whilst she continues her attack on Lexa’s chest, her fingers are trailing downwards, drawing little circles on the tanned skin as she goes. She runs her index finger along the seam of Lexa’s jeans and isn’t surprised to feel that they’re damp.

“Lex, I need you to tell me this is ok before I go any further,” her own voice comes out lower than usual; she’s almost whispering. Lexa just nods, eyes wide.

But Clarke doesn’t want to go any further until she’s heard her say the words, and her hand stalls. Lexa, who has waited months and literally can’t wait any longer, takes Clarke's free hand and squeezes.

“Yes. This is ok. I want this, Clarke.”

Clarke nods and smiles, and Lexa notices she’s not the only one on the verge of tears. Maybe it is possible to cry with happiness. Lexa used to think sex and love could be kept separate, but she’s having a hard time isolating them now.

Clarke slides the zip of her jeans down slowly, and Lexa, emerging through her haze of desire, is struck with the recollection that this is Clarke’s first time. She takes hold of the wrist that is hovering over her underwear. “Hey, listen to me. You don’t owe me anything, ok? If you want to stop, you just say the word, and we will.”

Clarke swallows and bites her lip. “I don’t want to stop.”

With these words she slides her hand into Lexa’s underwear in one fluid motion. Lexa’s back arches off the sofa, and Clarke herself can’t suppress a groan at the feeling of the wetness surrounding her fingers. It was one thing when they were talking about it, telling each other how turned on they were, but it is a whole other matter now that she is experiencing it firsthand.

She doesn’t move her fingers at first, just keeps them pressed lightly against her clit, savoring the moment. She rests their foreheads together, lips almost touching but not quite, just drinking each other in, breathing in tandem.

“Is that -,”

"It's incredible. Are you ok?”

“I’m more than ok, Lexa, you don’t have to keep asking me that.”

Clarke starts moving the tip of her finger in tiny circles and Lexa shudders.

“Jesus, fuck, Clarrrke,” and Clarke almost comes apart herself at the way Lexa says her name.

“I’m not…oh god, I’m not…going to…last…,” she’s gripping Clarke’s back so hard that each of her nails leaves a little crescent shaped mark, but it doesn’t seem to bother Clarke.

“Well then I guess I better pick up the pace,” she whispers back. She moves her hand further down and is about to do what she’s dreamed about more times than she’d like to admit when she hears yelling from the kitchen.

"Clarke? Are you here? I come bearing dessert!" Raven's voice echoes from the front of the apartment.

Lexa's head drops in disbelief.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consent is sexy, kids! Feedback on my smut writing would be greatly appreciated !! I've been stressing quite a lot about it, but I think this turned out ok. They are FINALLY done waiting! Lots of goodness coming. (no pun intended)  
> I'm HARMONSANGEL on twitter and jedihaught on twitter and I LOVE hearing your thoughts.  
> \- Amy x


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rellamy know each other's secrets and both have something to hide, Monty is a cute smol gay and Jasper's a bit of an idiot. Clexa get it on. For real this time.

Clarke is up like a shot, dashing into the foyer area to ensure Raven doesn’t make it through to the living room, where Lexa seems to be in some kind of daze, not quite able to believe what a (literal) sticky situation she’s been left in.

“Raven! You’re _incredibly_ early!” Clarke greets her as she strides into the kitchen, ducking her friend’s attempted hug and heading straight for the sink.

Raven looks at her watch in confusion. “It’s 3? You told me yesterday to come now and help Lexa with the cooking.”

 _Crap. That’s true._ Clearly, Clarke had other things on her mind. Like Lexa.

“Oh yes, of course I did. My bad.”

“Been cleaning the toilet or something?” Raven asks suspiciously, eyeing Clarke furiously scrubbing her hands in the kitchen sink.

“Cleaning? Sure.” _Let’s go with cleaning._

“So Lexa hasn’t started cooking yet? Does she not realize how long it takes to cook a turkey?” she asks, looking disapprovingly at the lack of activity in the kitchen.

“Um, no…she’s been…uh, busy,” _Well, that’s not technically a lie._

“I’m sure she’s coming in a second,” _and that one is, unfortunately, a lie._

“Hey Raven!” Lexa strolls breezily into the kitchen, as if nothing is wrong. Clarke notes that she’s changed into a different pair of jeans and tries not to laugh.

“You’re early.”

“I’m not. Clarke told me to come at 3 and help you cook.”

“Oh. She must have forgotten to mention that,” she says, sliding her eyes over to Clarke accusingly, who mouths ‘I’m sorry’ over Raven’s shoulder.

“I think she forgot completely. She doesn’t really think about anything other than you most of the time,” Raven sasses.

“Oh, she isn’t always that good to me, I assure you,” Lexa replies, sending another pointed look in the direction of her girlfriend, who has gone a deep shade of red.

Raven looks vaguely confused but doesn’t push it. She claps her hands together and starts rummaging through Clarke’s cupboards for pots and pans. “So, I’m just going to tell you now, because I’m generally a superior human being it’s not possible for me to let anyone else take charge in the kitchen when I’m there, but you can be my sous-chef if you’d like,” she offers, as if it’s some great honor.

“I thought Clarke asked you to _help_ me cook?”

“I am helping. I’m helping you two host a delicious Christmas Eve dinner, by taking charge of your kitchen.”

Lexa doesn’t even know how to respond so she just nods. “What would you like me to do?”

“Carrots,” she demands, gesturing to where she has already laid them out on the sideboard atop a chopping board and beside a large knife. Lexa dutifully takes up her chopping position.

“I need the bathroom, been weeing like a firehose recently…” Raven mutters and stalks off towards Clarke’s bathroom.

Lexa seizes her moment.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to forgive you for that.”

“It wasn’t _my_ fault.”

“Um, yes it was. You asked Raven to come over at 3, completely forgot about it and then started… _seducing_ me right before she was due to arrive. How is it not your fault that we got interrupted?”

“ _Seducing?_ Really, Lexa?  I didn’t see you complaining.”

“Well, obviously not -,”

“I’m sorry I forgot Raven was coming over, ok? But maybe it’s for the best. I feel like we could probably do better than my couch for our first time.”

“You started it.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so irresistible.”

“Touché.”

Clarke leans over the counter and pecks her on the lips. “I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight,” and then, ghosting her lips over the shell of Lexa’s ear: “As many times as you can handle.”

Lexa just exhales deeply and looks at Clarke, noticing that she is unable to stay still and her cheeks are still flushed a bright shade of pink.

“How badly do you need to change your pants right now?”

“So, so badly, oh my god,” Clarke laughs.

“You idiot,” Lexa swats her arm affectionately. “Go. I’ll distract Raven.”

***

Raven, as it turns out, is a phenomenal cook, and even if Lexa isn’t quite sure how she feels about being sidelined, she must admit the food is delicious. Bellamy and Lincoln manage three portions each and Raven just sits at the end of the table, admiring her handiwork and looking incredibly smug.

It’s been hours and Clarke still feels pretty flustered. She decides it can’t be good for a person to get so worked up and then not be able to do anything about it for so long. It’s not an issue she’s encountered before, even if she has been interrupted on numerous occasions, but she supposes it all comes back to Lexa having an effect on her that’s unlike anything she’s ever felt before.

Even though Lexa was the one left hanging, she seems to be coping a lot better than Clarke. Raven and Octavia had forced them to sit apart otherwise, in Octavia’s words, ‘they won’t even notice we’re here’ so Clarke is forced to admire her beautiful girlfriend from 3 chairs down. She is deep in conversation with Jasper, who is unsurprisingly rather enamored by her. Clarke narrows her eyes. She and Bellamy are only really friends with Jasper through association as he’s Monty’s best friend, and Clarke’s not always his biggest fan. He’s the kind of guy who would ask a lesbian if they are 100% sure they’re gay, and would they like to sleep with him just to check? Clarke doesn’t like the way he ogles Lexa. Maybe she should say something.

“Princess, if looks could kill, Jasper would already be in the morgue,” Bellamy whispers, noticing who the recipient of her death glare is. “Lexa’s not interested in anyone but you. Retract the claws.”

She takes a deep breath and tears her eyes away from the two of them. “Sorry. We had a bit of a…situation earlier and now I feel really weird.” She doesn’t hesitate to be completely honest with Bellamy. He’d be the last person to judge.

“Well, judging by the way you’ve been undressing her with your eyes for the past 2 hours I’m guessing you were in the middle of something and Raven walked in?”

Clarke cocks her head at him. “How-?”

“She was at my place earlier, and mentioned she was heading over here. I knew you must have forgotten because you texted me this morning to say you were just hanging with Lexa all afternoon getting ready for tonight. Plus, the way you look at her is so fricking obvious _and_ you have sex hair.”

“I _do not._ I brushed it.”

“Well, you didn’t do a very good job,” he chuckles.

“She didn’t walk in, exactly. We heard her banging the front door, thank god, but it was very…frustrating.”

“She has such bad timing. She’s done that to me so many times -,”

“ _So_ inconvenient,” she agrees, and then does a double take. “Wait, what?! We didn’t know her that well a few months ago when you were with Finn, so that means…”

He goes bright red and then tries to make an excuse. “That’s not what that means at all. I met Raven before she worked on our film, through O.”

“But only a couple of times, and you didn’t know her well enough for her to be waltzing into your apartment with no warning.”

Bellamy has no response for that. He sighs exasperatedly.

“Ok, don’t make a big deal out of it, please?” He whispers, glancing around surreptitiously to make sure everyone else is still absorbed in their own conversations. “It’s quite new.”

“Who is he? Is it the guy you told me about, the one I could tell you really liked?”

Bellamy wonders why hearing about his love life makes Clarke so gleeful, and whether she would still be smiling like that if he told her the truth about who he’s seeing. He just nods.

“Bell, I have to meet this guy! I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me like this!”

_Oh, Clarke. If only you knew you’ve already done a lot more than met this guy._

“You’ve had other things on your mind. And by other things I mean your superstar girlfriend, who is, by the way, literally _always_ on your mind.”

Clarke tuts indignantly. “Hey, if you had a superstar boyfriend who was as sweet and drop dead gorgeous as Lexa, you’d never shut up about him either.”

“Who says my new man isn’t drop dead gorgeous?” _I happen to think he’s far more appealing than Lexa Woods. But then I suppose that’s to be expected._

“Well, if you’d let me meet him, I could decide for myself.”

“All in good time, Clarke.”

She is about to continue to argue the point when Octavia drowns out all other conversation with one of the most sinful noises Clarke has ever heard (and this is coming from Clarke, who had her hand down Lexa’s pants earlier that day).

“Raven, that was orgasmic.” ( _is it just me or did Lexa blush when O said the word orgasmic?)_

“Yeah, I hear that a lot,” Raven smirks. _(She is definitely blushing)._

“Speaking of orgasms, when are you going to reveal the identity of your _secret_ girlfriend?” asks Bellamy, his tone implying the identity of this girl is anything but a secret. ( _Look at her little pink cheeks. Why is she so fucking adora- wait...Raven has a girlfriend?!)_ Clarke’s internal monologue is interrupted in the middle of swooning over Lexa as the significance of Bellamy’s words hit home. This girlfriend might not be particularly secret to him but Clarke certainly knows nothing about it.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah. A girlfriend?! Raven Reyes? Are you sure?” she turns to Bellamy accusingly, which makes two of them, because Raven looks like she wants to murder him with the turkey laden fork she’s holding.

“She’s not my girlfriend, you potato with eyes.”

“Really? That’s not what it sounded like when you were on the phone yesterday -,”

“That was just phone sex. You know me, I love a bit of dirty talking.” (Clarke shoots a surreptitious glance at Lexa, who does exactly the same thing, both wondering if the other has forgotten about the once discussed idea of having phone sex).

“Oh, really? So phone sex is talking about how much you love their smile now? And calling them cuddle muffin? Jeez, I think I’ve been doing it wrong…” Bellamy looks like he’s never had so much fun in his life, and his grin suggests he doesn’t even care that Raven is about to murder him; he’s just glad he lived long enough to tell all their friends that Raven has pet names for her girlfriend.

Jasper looks delighted, no doubt trying to picture Raven and this mystery girl in his mind. (Raven slaps him on the arm, hard. Clearly she and Clarke are on the same wavelength.) The tips of Monty’s ears have gone red as he tries to conceal his giggles in fear of facing the wrath of Raven, whilst Octavia has the look of someone who has known about this all along and is just glad she can finally share the scandal with others. Lincoln is staring lovingly at Octavia, but then that’s just his permanent facial expression. Lexa seems to be attempting to gently remove the fork from Raven’s iron fist as every conceivable insult and swear word fly from her mouth in Bellamy’s direction. Her explicit monologue is accompanied by some very detailed gestures and Lexa is fearful she might accidentally (or not, as the case may be) javelin-throw her cutlery the length of the table and impale their daring friend.  

“- oh, and if you’re in the mood for sharing, why don’t you tell Clarke about your new boy toy, huh?”

Clarke furrows her eyebrows and turns to Bellamy in confusion. _Why would she want him to tell me, specifically? Maybe she just means I’m the only person who doesn’t know yet._

“Ok, ok,” he says warily, picking up his napkin and waving it in an attempt at peace. “I’m waving my white flag. Raven, will you...put down the fork? Much better, thank you. How about neither of us do any more sharing tonight? How does that sound?”

Raven considers this for a moment, and eventually seems to decide it’s worth keeping Bellamy’s secret at the price of her own. For now, anyway.

Clarke is still intrigued and confused, but decides to try and lighten the mood some. It is, after all, Christmas Eve. If Raven insists on murdering someone in her kitchen, she would prefer she left it for a less festive time of year.

“What about you, Monty? Who’s the lucky guy behind all that cute poetry you’ve been posting on facebook?”

Monty smiles and opens his mouth to answer, but Jasper beats him to it.

“Oh, Clarke, I can’t believe I haven’t told you about _Nathan,_ my fantastic amazing handsome artistic intelligent sexy boyfriend _Nathan,_ he’s so multitalented you wouldn’t believe, and he’s _my boyfriend,_ can you believe it?” Jasper imitates his friend, who looks down into his potatoes.

“I don’t talk about him like that,” Monty mutters.

“Sorry bro, but you really do.”

“Well, I think he sounds great, M. Where did you guys meet? Jasper, don’t answer that,” says Clarke brightly.

“Jasper’s just jealous because he hasn’t gotten laid in like...well, ever,” jokes Bellamy, knocking back the dregs of his fifth beer. ( _No wonder he was so forthcoming with Raven)._

Jasper looks mortified and Monty jumps in to save them all from a long speech about Jasper’s sexual prowess. “Well, Clarke, thank you for asking. I met my _fantastic, handsome_ boyfriend Nathan Miller at a work event 3 months ago, but we’ve only just started officially going out. He works for a rival technology company, so it’s totally all hot and forbidden and stuff…”

They finish eating, and the conversation flows along, bringing with it an assortment of topics that seem to have very little relevance to each other. At around 11.30 Raven stands up abruptly and announces that they should go out.

“Out?”

“Yes, Clarke, out, you know, on the town? Like exciting human beings do on occasion?”

“I knew what you meant, thank you Raven, I just didn’t know that was...the plan...for tonight, that’s all.”

“It’s Christmas Eve! Spontaneous nights out are the best kind of nights out. Who’s with me?”

“I’m in!” Jasper replies cheerily. “Will your girlfriend be there?”

“Will yours? Oh wait, she doesn’t exist,” Raven sasses.

Everyone voices their agreement as they clear their plates into a huge pile, teetering beside Clarke’s sink. Clarke looks uncertainly at Lexa, not sure what to say. On one hand, they had a great time last time they were all out together, but on the other hand they have much more important plans for tonight. ‘ _Please make up an excuse for us,’_ she silently pleads in Lexa’s direction, trying not to be too obvious. Somehow, Lexa gets the message loud and clear.

“Clarke and I have to head off really early in the morning to get to my parents in time for lunch, so we might have to raincheck, if that’s ok.”

Raven turns and fixes them both with a skeptical glare. “I’ll translate that for everyone. Clarke and Lexa won’t be joining us because they’re eager to get back to the sex I interrupted earlier, and they would quite like us all to leave as quickly as possible so that we don’t delay them any further.”

“That’s not -,”

“How did you -,”

“Your living room stinks of sex, and Clarke went and changed her jeans right after I got here. There’s no use trying to hide sex from the sex expert, ladies,” Raven crosses her arms and looks extremely pleased with herself. “Let’s go everyone! Leave your dishes, we might as well inconvenience them further,” she starts shepherding the little group out the door.

“You weren’t inconveniencing us!” Clarke tries to redeem herself but is just met with a chorus of goodbyes as they continue to follow Raven out of the apartment. Clarke thinks she hears her say something like ‘let me lead the way, I’ll distract the paparazzi with my beautiful face’ as they disappear down the stairs.

“Your parents? Really? You haven’t spoken to your parents in three years. You couldn’t have come up with something a bit more believable?”

“I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“And they say you’re a good actress…” Clarke teases, wrapping her arms around Lexa’s waist from behind and pressing a light kiss to her neck. “Jesus, I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for them to leave.”

“Clarke, they’re our friends, that’s not a very nice thing to -, mmmm, say,” Lexa giggles as Clarke starts running her fingernails lightly over the muscles of her abdomen. “The dishes aren’t going to do themselves, you know.”

“Are you talking dirty to me, Lexa Woods?” Clarke laughs. “How were you so composed all through dinner, anyway? All I could think about was how much I wanted to -,”

“Self-restraint is a skill, Clarke, and one you would do well to learn,” she chides, cutting Clarke off. “I’ve been interrupted so many times in my life, I’ve become really quite good at -,”

“You know Lexa, weirdly enough I don’t want to hear about all those other girls right now.”

Lexa spins them so that they are pressed flush against each other and edges her knee very slightly in between Clarke’s thighs. “Don’t worry. I guarantee you I never fucked any of them the way I’m about to fuck you,” she whispers into her neck and nips the sensitive skin just for effect. Clarke inhales. Her heart is pounding. Where had all her earlier bravado gone? She is overwhelmingly nervous all of a sudden. _Deep breaths, Clarke._

She surprises herself by hooking a finger into the waistband of Lexa’s jeans and pulling her down the hallway. “As much fun as we had on the couch, I thought this time we might try the bedroom?”

Lexa smiles bashfully and Clarke feels her heart speed up even further, pounding against her ribcage with urgency. She doesn’t know which one is stronger and more insistent, the beat of her heart or the one between her legs.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

***

As soon as they’re inside Clarke’s bedroom, the atmosphere heats up a notch. Lexa wagers she may actually be able to hear the air crackling with the excited tension between them. Her gaze darts to the main feature of the room, the bed, and she almost immediately has to avert her eyes. She searches for something else to focus on, but only ends up staring at Clarke, which turns out to be even more dangerous than looking at the bed. Lexa is yet to see Clarke and not think she looks perfect, but this time she has really outdone herself. She is stood in the doorway, golden hair as always escaping it’s ponytail and framing her face, which is still slightly flushed. She is biting her lip in a way that is simultaneously sexy and adorable and looks completely unsure of where to go from here, despite the fact that she is standing in the doorway of her own bedroom. Her expression is so endearing it brings a smile to Lexa’s own face and she thinks she wouldn’t even care if all they did tonight was cuddle. _As long as she’s safe and happy, I don’t need anything else. That’s all that matters. That’s how much I love her._

This realisation does not come as a shock to Lexa. She has known for a long time. In fact, it’s hard for her to remember a time when she wasn’t in love with Clarke, when Clarke was just a friend or even a stranger. She feels as if, despite her fame and fortune, her life possessed no real meaning until the night she met this beautiful, wonderful, passionate girl at her premiere party. She thinks it’s quite possible that she’s in too deep with Clarke; that there’s no turning back now and that if she ever lost her it would be insurmountable. Forgetting her would be like trying to know someone you’ve never met. Completely impossible.

She shakes herself from her reverie and walks to wear Clarke is standing. She takes both of her hands gently and leads her to the edge of the bed. They sit side by side, and Lexa turns Clarke’s face towards her.

“Listen. I know you told me to stop saying this earlier, but I just want you to know, there’s absolutely no pressure. We don’t have to do this tonight, or ever, if you don’t want to. I want you to be completely comfortable, and ready.”

There are tears in Clarke’s eyes and she smiles and chuckles, looking down at their joined hands.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Just thinking about all the people who would die to be in my position right now.”

“Are you saying you’d switch with someone?” she teases.

Clarke stares at her lips then, entranced. “There is absolutely no fucking way I’d switch places with anyone right now. Not even like, the richest person in the world. And there’s also absolutely no way I’m letting you off that easily, either. I told you I’m ready and that hasn’t changed.”

Almost without noticing Clarke has undone her jeans again. She slips her hand inside, above her underwear, just grazing the surface of where Lexa needs her. She annunciates every syllable of her next sentence, slipping her index finger lower with each word.

“I want you...to fuck me…”

Lexa is overwhelmed. She’s never been in this position with someone she feels so deeply for. Clarke is sat so close she can feel the warmth emanating from her torso and smell her heady perfume. She’s so close that Lexa isn’t entirely sure why they aren’t kissing yet.

“I’m nervous,” she admits, aware of the position of Clarke’s hand and the fact that she has somehow allowed her to have all the power. Clarke’s fingers still for a moment. “Are you?” Lexa continues.

“Nervous, happy, excited, so fucking turned on...you make me feel everything at once, you know that? I’ve never been with anyone who makes me feel this way.”

Lexa almost says it. She almost tells Clarke she loves her. It won’t be the first time she says it to someone, but she thinks it will be the first time she will say it and fully understand it; what it means to love someone. She feels like she’s on the edge of a cliff, and saying those words will be the equivalent of throwing herself off, just praying to God that someone, Clarke, will catch her.

She almost says it, but not quite. All of a sudden the feel of Clarke’s hand in the heat between her legs and the visible strip of skin above the waistband of Clarke’s jeans just become too much, and she closes the sliver of space between them. She finds Clarke’s lips with her own, finding in the kiss the confidence she had been lacking a moment before. She parts her lips and moves her tongue to caress Clarke’s, the feeling rushing over her, through her, straight to her core.

Clarke starts moving her fingers again, reaching to push Lexa’s underwear aside, but Lexa grips her wrist and tugs it upwards. _That’s not how we’re going to do this,_ she decides. _Clarke is the priority. Clarke will always be my priority._

She starts unbuttoning Clarke’s shirt, overjoyed to finally get a better view of the glorious cleavage that has been partially on show all night. She wonders if she did it on purpose. Her knuckles graze her breasts as they slide down the path of her chest, and she tries to follow her hands with a trail of kisses, but gets distracted. _She’s wearing too many clothes,_ she thinks, reaching round to unclip her bra. She whispers ‘yes’ into Clarke’s bare skin when she successfully completes the action with one hand, and they giggle together.

“It would be really sad if you could do that and I couldn’t,” Lexa adds teasingly.

“It would be tragic,” Clarke agrees, but it is much more concerned with Lexa’s fingers trailing over her newly exposed skin, paying attention to every little detail of her chest. She takes a deep breath, trying to quash her nerves and self consciousness. Lexa notices. _Lexa always notices._

“Clarke, you're so...wow.” It seems like words always fail her in moments of great importance with Clarke, but she thinks wow is the only suitable adjective. Anything else would be insufficient.

“Do you want to know something funny?” Clarke says amidst heavy breathing as Lexa licks and nips at her chest. “After we first met, I used to see you staring at my boobs. You were so cute, you’d catch yourself looking and go all red and try to look anywhere else for the rest of the time. That’s what I used to think about it, before we were together. It turned me on, knowing you found me attractive like that.”

As if to emphasise the point of being attracted to Clarke, Lexa takes a nipple between her lips and runs her tongue softly over it. Clarke throws her head back and moans, and Lexa can’t take sitting up like this anymore. She needs a better angle, a better position to sate Clarke in all the ways she wants to. Managing to tear her mouth away from her chest for a second, she pushes her lightly down onto the bed and climbs on top of her, stopping only to pull her t shirt over her head and undo her own bra.

Everywhere. Clarke feels her everywhere, and she feels crazy and desperate in the best possible way. She kisses Lexa again, surprising them both with a new intensity and desire. When Lexa pulls away for a second to unzip Clarke’s jeans and pull them off, her heart fills with emotion at the sight that greets her. Clarke, lying before her, completely vulnerable and yet not afraid, breathing heavily, staring disbelievingly up at her. Lexa has played this role before, but now she feels it, in every cell of her body. Even the fog of lust in her mind cannot cloud the clarity with which she knows she loves Clarke.

Clarke is tugging at Lexa’s jeans now, trying to even the playing field. Soon they are gone too, flung across the room in haste, leaving them almost completely exposed to each other. For Clarke, each action is a new sensation, and she thinks that if you really can be addicted to love then she's well and truly screwed.

“God, Clarke, you’re so...so sexy,” says Lexa. Her voice sounds different. Lower. Thicker. Her eyes are darker, too. The emerald green Clarke is used to has been replaced by a stormy forest green, lust dilating her pupils until they are almost all that’s visible. She pulls her closer and kisses her neck. She is almost certainly leaving marks but she cannot bring herself to care. _She is mine, and I am hers._

She drinks Lexa in, really takes her in for the first time, the sight of her full breasts, flat, toned stomach and the curve of her waist making her forget what she was doing. Lexa reminds her by running a finger down her spine and making her gasp into their kiss. She is not satisfied with just kissing her lips, she wants to taste every inch of Clarke with her mouth, and she can feel the steady vibrations of her pulse as she runs her tongue down the column of her neck. When she slides a naked thigh between her legs, she feels the rate of Clarke's pulse speed up and the responding thump of her own heartbeat.

“Jesus,” Clarke husks, her eyes falling closed at the feel of Lexa’s center so close to her own. She wonders briefly if she will survive this, but is satisfied that if she doesn’t she will be going out in the best way possible, in a haze of passion and pleasure. She aches in places she has never ached before. She aches out of love, out of lust, out of things she can’t even name.

And then Lexa is hooking her fingers through the side of Clarke’s underwear and dragging them down her thighs. Clarke has to resist the urge to cover herself up, to pull the duvet over them. That is the way she has always known sex: where climax is the goal and what leads up to it isn’t really important. This is different. This is Lexa, and Lexa makes her feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet. She is looking down at her in awe, stroking the inside of her thigh gently as she seeks permission with her eyes.

“Lexa, please,I want this,” she gasps, and Lexa obeys. She bends her elbows to place a kiss to the inside of her thigh before inching her lips higher, connecting with Clarke’s core and sending her flying off the edge of a cliff she wasn’t even aware she was standing on. Clarke is glad, in this moment, that breathing comes automatically, because she’s certain she’s forgotten how to do it herself.

Lexa presses another soft kiss to her clit, and stops to ask “Is that ok?”

“It’s not ok, it’s...mmmm...oh my god, fuck, that’s amazing,” she manages before Lexa’s tongue pressed up against her unleashes a string of curses. “You’re torturing me. You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

“Who knew you had such a dirty mouth?” Lexa teases. The vibrations of her words pulsate against Clarke deliciously.

“Seriously? _You’re_ talking to _me_ about having a dirty mouth right now?”

Lexa just laughs and resumes teasing Clarke’s entrance with her tongue. She is so wet, so turned on and ready and all for her, and Lexa just wants this to be perfect. She is gentle, judging Clarke’s sensitivity and not overdoing it, and when she glimpses her girlfriend’s beautiful O face she can’t help but kiss her again.

Clarke kisses back lazily, feeling like her limbs are made of jelly, and pulls Lexa up so that she’s lying fully on top of her.

“It’s normal, right? To find kissing you really hot when you’ve just done...that…” she tries to explain, blushing furiously.

Lexa pecks her on the lips again. “It’s normal. You’re perfect.”

They lie there for a few moments in a blissful silence until Lexa can’t help herself.

“You meant torturing you...in a good way, right?”

Instead of answering, Clarke just flips them over, pinning Lexa’s hips to the bed with her own and slipping her hand between them. “I’ll be sure to stop and ask _you_ questions when _you’re_ begging, too.”

Lexa smirks and raises her eyebrows. “Who said anything about begging?”

Clarke just laughs and leans down again, moaning at the feeling of their bare breasts grazing over each other. She feels like she’s been waiting forever to be inside Lexa, and when she finally slides a finger through her wetness the contact makes them both jerk, the feeling more intense than she’d been expecting and better than anything she had dreamed of.

“Fuck. I feel insane. You make me feel insane.”

But Lexa is unable to comment. Insane is exactly how she feels, exactly the way Clarke’s fingers are making her feel. She is lost to the sensation of Clarke moving inside her, around her, over her, their bodies moving together. Later, Clarke would tell her that she tried to say something in this moment but that Lexa didn’t, or couldn’t hear her. She isn’t surprised really. In this moment, she doesn’t feel like the ground is solid, that gravity tethers her down, that the sky is out of reach. She is floating, and she knows that even after she returns to Earth, nothing will ever be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I hope you guys liked that! As you know I normally update every day but I had some serious writer's block about how to write their first time properly. I think I like how this has turned out, and I hope i got the right balance between love and lust, but please comment and tell me what you thought!!  
> I'm sorry I've ended up writing Jasper as a bit of a jerk, that wasn't really my intention but it just kind of happened. I have nothing against the character in the show, i actually think he's a very good character. Hmm, maybe I'll find a way to redeem him before the fic is over.  
> How hilarious is Raven? Nothing gets past her. And i wonder who the girl is whose finally managed to tie her down....:P  
> Please comment if you liked it or tweet me @HARMONSANGEL ! for obvious reasons this was a pretty hard chapter to write so I'd love to hear what you guys think. By the way I'm not even close to done with this fic, so send me any cool ideas and I may well include them! :D


	18. I love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title says it all. This is almost 5000 words worth of Clexa in bed talking about sex and feelings and generally being the cutest little shits ever. Mentions of drug abuse and self harm (I've put it in the tags as well).

_I love you,_ Clarke had thought a hundred times that night. She had had other thoughts too, thoughts of wonder at how one person could make her so happy, thoughts that she will surely die if she ever has stop loving her, thoughts that aren’t really thoughts at all, just overwhelming sensations of desire and pleasure. She won’t remember everything she thought that night, just the overall emotions attached to their first time, but she will remember thinking this: _I love you._

_I love everything about you. I love your laugh, and your smile, and the way you say my name. I love the way you laugh before you’ve finished telling the story. I love how you know who you are, when the whole world is trying to turn you into something else. And I love your body. I love your skin and your lips and the way you hold me so gently it’s as if you think I might break. I love you, and there is nothing you could ever say or do that would make me change my mind._

She rolls over and buries her face in the crook of Lexa’s neck, enjoying the feel of her chest rising and falling beneath her arms and her pulse thumping against her lips. Clarke presses a kiss to her pulse point, and Lexa sighs contentedly.

Clarke tries to voice what she’s feeling right now, but all that comes out in an unintelligible mixture between a breath and a moan. She has forgotten how to form words, or move. Her mind is swimming, and the only sensations she can process are those of the damp sheets beneath her body, the delicious warmth in the pit of her stomach, and the gorgeous naked body of the woman next to her, who is the cause of all of this.

“I think I might be dead,” she manages.

“I hope not. It wouldn’t be very polite to let me do that once and then never again,” Lexa says, and Clarke can hear the smile in her voice.

“You’re such a smug little shit.”

“With good reason, I hope. You _were_ saying my name rather…emphatically,” she teases, stroking her finger gently over Clarke’s hip bone and gazing down at her. Clarke opens her eyes, and whatever coherence she had regained flutters away again at the look on Lexa’s face. She has a crushing urge to start rambling, to make endless promises and affirmations and make Lexa understand the way she feels, but nothing comes out.

“What are you thinking about?” Lexa inquires, brushing a strand of blonde hair off Clarke’s forehead and tucking it behind her ear.

“Mmmm…I’m thinking that I meant what I said earlier.”

“The ‘oh, fuck yes, right there?’ That was fairly obvious.”

“You’re an idiot. Not that.”

“That the taste of me is really sexy?”

Clarke elbows her. “ _Lexa._ I’m serious.”

“So am I!”

“You’re really not going to catch on to what I’m talking about?”

“I can honestly say I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Clarke looks at her despairingly. She feels like Lexa's confusion has killed the moment.

“Look, you’ve gone all red again,” Lexa giggles, tracing the outline of Clarke’s cheekbone and following it with a kiss. They’re lying so close she only has to speak just above a whisper to be heard. “It’s adorable the way you’re normally so bold and assertive and confident, but sometimes get all embarrassed and shy. You’re fascinating. You make me feel beautiful, and interesting, and you have so much passion for everything around you. The world excites you. That’s why I -,” she pauses. “That’s what makes you you.”

Why can’t she say it? She’s said it before, of course, but to a different person in what feels like a different life, and it never made her feel so vulnerable. This is both terrifying and exciting. She looks down, away from Clarke’s beautiful eyes that are drowning her in love and affection.

But Clarke won’t let her. She reaches up and tilts Lexa’s chin back up towards her so that their eyes meet once again.

“Hey, don’t do that. Don’t be scared.”

 _Deep breath._ “Ok. That’s why…I love you.”

The statement is loud in the relative silence of the room. The only other sound is the pounding of Lexa’s heart against her ribcage, which she’s sure Clarke can hear.

“I do. I really, really love you, Clarke. I love everything about you, and I don’t ever want to lose you. I’m sorry if that’s too much, or too soon…or -,”

Clarke cuts her off with a gentle kiss, enjoying the feeling against her lips of the slow spread of Lexa’s smile.

She wraps her arms around her again and pulls her close so that they are completely entwined.

She nudges their noses together as Lexa whispers, “did you ever look up the meaning of lilies?”

Clarke can’t help but laugh. _She’s so damn smooth._ She has, but she decides to play along.

“I don’t think I did.”

Half of Lexa’s mouth tilts up into a smile, like she knows exactly what Clarke is doing. _She could always read me._

“Ok. The lily means: _I dare you to love me._ ”

Clarke rolls on top of her again and rests her head on her chest.

“Challenge accepted.”

“Do you…?”

“Of course I do. I love you. I’ve been trying to find the right time to say that for a month. I’m glad I waited, though. Tonight…or, this morning, was perfect. I love you so much.”

She crawls back up to Lexa’s face and kisses her forehead softly.

“You make me so happy,” says Clarke.

“Me too,” Lexa sighs and closes her eyes.

“Your heart is beating so fast.”

“I can’t imagine why. It’s not like the most beautiful girl in the world just told me she loves me whilst lying naked on my chest.”

“I’m _not_ the most -,”

“You’re never going to convince me to stop calling you that, so you might as well get used to it.”

Clarke just laughs and bites her lip.

Lexa is happy. Exhausted and a little dazed but completely, absolutely, overwhelmingly happy. She thinks she might be about to drift off to sleep when a realization hits her.

“Wait…what exactly did you say earlier, that I couldn’t remember?”

Clarke looks at her like she’s just grown an extra head. “That I love you. Obviously.”

“When?!”

She looks embarrassed and glances down at the blanket, picking at a loose thread. “When I was…you know…”

“Fucking me?"

“Yeah."

“Which time?”

Clarke smirks.

“The first time. I can’t believe you didn’t hear me.”

“Well, I was a bit preoccupied.”

“Note to self: Don’t tell Lexa anything of importance when your fingers are inside her.”

“Yeah, maybe don't tell me anything when your fingers are inside me. I have a pretty one track mind during sex, especially with you."

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Do you want to sleep for a bit? It’s 3am, and you really wore me out.”

“Absolutely,” agrees Clarke. “Turn around. I’m the big spoon.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re half a foot shorter than me, how can you be the big spoon?”

“Just look at you, you’re total little spoon material.”

Lexa considers it. “Fine. But this isn’t a permanent arrangement,” she huffs as she rolls over. Clarke snuggles in behind her and hums at how well they fit together. As she repositions her arms she accidentally brushes over Lexa’s nipples and lets out a laugh.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Your nipples are _still_ hard.”

“Of course they are. You’re _still_ naked.”

Clarke kisses the back of her neck, right between her shoulder blades. “After tonight I don’t think I ever want to not be naked again.”

“I would like that very much.”

“Goodnight, Lexa.”

“Goodnight, Clarke.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Lexa smiles softly. She’s never going to get tired of saying that.

***

When Clarke wakes later that morning, the room is bathed in light and Lexa is propped up with pillows beside her, flicking through a script. She notices her stirring and sets it down on the nightstand before wriggling back under the blanket to wrap her arms around Clarke again.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

“Afternoon, more like,” Clarke glances at the clock to see it’s past lunchtime. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, my love,” she says, kissing her gently.

“Best. Christmas. Ever.” Clarke yawns and turns to face Lexa. “So far, at least. Are you still cool with going to see my mom for dinner? We don’t have to. We can just stay here, or go see Anya…or go shout at Raven and aggravate her hangover headache…the opportunities are endless.”

“Clarke, it’s you who doesn’t want to go see your mom, not me. You have to face her sometime.”

“Ugh, I know I do. But you don’t. You’re not related to her so you don’t have any obligations to see her. I suggest you run while you still can.”

“She’s your mom, Clarke. I know you haven’t always seen eye to eye but she loves you, and you should be grateful for that.”

“We’ll see if she still loves me when I turn up on her doorstep with my lesbian lover.”

“I prefer the term ‘girlfriend’ or even ‘light of my life’, but I suppose lesbian lover will do. Will it help if I act like a heterosexual?"

“Oh I know you’re my girlfriend, she just seems to have an issue with the word. Lesbian lover is what she calls you. I’ve tried to get her to stop…”

“Honestly, Clarke, I’m just kidding. Your mom can call me, or us, whatever she wants; don’t let it get to you. You and I is what matters.”

She nods slowly. “Good point.”

After a beat of silence, Clarke laughs: “As if you’re capable of acting like a heterosexual.”

Lexa scoffs. “I had the media fooled for years. And I’m an actress. My straight girl impression is on point, you’ve just never seen it because I’m at my gayest around you,” she chuckles.

“That is true. I can vouch there was no trace of heterosexuality in this bedroom last night.”

“And thank god for that.”

“That reminds me, I have a confession to make.” Clarke links their hands and presses a feather light kiss to the back of Lexa’s hand before continuing:

“The night we met, at your premiere party, you said you remembered meeting me before at an audition when we were kids, and I told you I didn’t remember. That wasn’t true. I remember that day perfectly. The audition was for a show called Trick or Treat; I think it aired on the Disney Channel but I’m not sure. I was 15, which means you must have been about 18, and I actually remember the second I saw you for the first time. You were a little older than most of us who were going out for the part, and so, _so_ gorgeous. You had brown hair then and it was really long, and these really sexy ripped skinny jeans, and I stood behind you in the queue to sign in and I couldn’t stop staring at you. When you were done you turned around to go back to the waiting area and I was like, _whoah. She’s the most beautiful girl I have ever seen._ I remember thinking your eyes were so green you must be wearing contacts, until you put your cute little glasses on to read a magazine. And before you say that I’m just saying all this because of where we are now, I’m not. You can ask my mom. She wasn’t there because she never came to my auditions, but after I saw you I sat back down with my dad and I wouldn’t shut up about you. He told my mom about it later and I remember she looked all disapproving, like she knew better than I did that I was crushing on you. I didn’t understand being into girls, like I told you before, I just thought you were like, my idol, or something. I was so sure you were going to get the part, and I was so disappointed when the show started and it was starring some girl I’ve never seen.”

Lexa chuckles. “They did offer it to me, but it was around the time I got a part in California, and I turned it down.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you remember all that.”

“You were with a girl. I noticed because most of us were there with our parents, and I remember thinking it was cool that a friend had come with you. And then I saw the way you looked at her, and the way she held your hand before you went in, and I was like… _oh, that’s cool. That’s really cool_. Do you know what I mean? I used to fixate on random queer couples I saw, I guess because I kind of hoped that could be me someday. I think that’s what I was thinking about without even realizing it.”

“I used to do that as well, before I came out. Every TV show or book with a hint of a queer character and I was right there, watching or reading in secret. That’s why I’m so obsessed with promoting good representation in the media, because if it wasn’t for watching those characters on TV being seen as completely normal I never would have had the confidence to come out myself. I want to do that for today’s younger generation. I want to be the reason some kid feels strong enough and brave enough to tell their parents they're gay, or bisexual, or non-binary, or anything they're scared to say. It’s really fucking scary, plucking up the courage to tell someone that, putting all your cards on the table with no guarantee about how they’re going to react. I just want kids to know that whatever happens, they can get through it.”

Clarke doesn’t know what to say to that.

“You’re amazing. I hope you realize that.”

“Well, you’re a little biased.”

“Seriously. You should go on social media more often; you’d see that you _are_ having the effect you just talked about. I’ve seen so many lovely messages about you, and about us. Don’t devalue yourself, Lexa. You inspire these kids. And you inspire me.”

“Ugh, I love you.”

“How long until one of us gets sick of saying that?”

“I don’t think we will. Our friends, on the other hand…” Lexa sticks her tongue out. “What brought that on, by the way? Not that I didn’t love hearing about what an impact I made on 15 year old you, but it was pretty random.”

“Oh, it just reminded me because you said you had the media thinking you were straight, but you didn’t fool me. I don’t think you were as subtle as you think.”

“I am the Queen of subtle, I’m telling you,” Lexa replies indignantly.

“What about before we were dating, when you couldn’t stop staring at my boobs? Or my ass, if my boobs weren’t an option,” Clarke teases.

Lexa tuts. “It’s not my fault you have unusually nice boobs. And you were almost as bad.”

“I guess we’re both hopeless. We are going to have to try and reign in the PDA in front of my mom though,” Clarke pouts and kisses her again, as if to make up for the time they’re going to have to spend later not able to touch each other.

Lexa gets lost in the kiss for a moment, distracted from their serious conversation by the gentle movements of Clarke’s lips over her own. She thinks that in a way she’s addicted to Clarke. Every time they do something new for the first time, she just wants to carry on doing it forever. After their first kiss, she couldn’t keep her hands off her. After they cuddled on the sofa, she couldn’t sleep without her soft body in her arms. Now that they have said _it,_ she feels the urge to slip it into every other sentence, and now that they have made love, she wants to do it over and over and over again.

But they can’t, right now. They have plenty of time for that; right now she wants to make sure Clarke is ok with the situation with her mom.

“How do you think it’s going to go today, with your mom? I mean, she did invite us, so she can’t hate me too much,” Lexa shrugs.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t worry about it. There’s nothing that my mom hates more than making a scene, and her new boyfriend is going to be there, so I’m sure she’ll be on her best behavior. It will be fine. That’s just it with me and my mom. Everything is always _fine._ It’s never a disaster, and it’s never great. We just handle things without emotion most of the time. It’s almost like we’re just acquaintances.”

Lexa squeezes her hand. “I’m sorry, that it’s like that between the two of you.”

“It doesn’t bother me all that much, to be honest. I just miss my Dad sometimes, you know?”

Lexa just nods. Clarke has mentioned that her father died, but only in passing, and Lexa hasn’t wanted to pry. The death of someone close is something one has to be ready to talk about, to come to terms with in their own time. She never had the bond with her parents that Clarke seemed to have had with her father, so she can’t imagine what it was like to lose him. She wishes she could have met Jake. He was Clarke’s hero, and he raised one hell of a daughter.

“Would you like to know? About, you know…what happened to my dad?” Clarke asks hesitantly, knowing some people are uncomfortable with conversations about death.

“I'd like to know _about_ your dad, what he was like and what made you love him so much. Those are the memories we should hold the closest of someone, not juts their last moments. But you don't have to talk about him. Only if you want to."

“He was, _is,_ a huge part of me, and I don’t want there to be anything in my life I can’t share with you.”

Lexa pulls the blanket back over them where it had slid down the bed. She doesn’t care that it’s almost 1pm and there are probably much more productive things they could be doing. She could stay here forever, just wrapped up in Clarke, listening to the walls she’s worked so hard to build come crashing down.

“So, my dad was one of those people that’s just so supportive, of anything and everything. I used to have all these crazy ideas when I was a kid, and he never once told me they were stupid, or that my dreams were unrealistic. He was always there, cheering me on, and he was always there to catch me when I fell. I remember I was convinced one time that I was going to be a kid billionaire by starting my own cookie making business, even though I couldn’t bake for shit. I still can’t, I know,” she adds, laughing. “He was the same with my mom. She was so unsure about quitting her job at the hospital to start her own practice. It was such a big risk, and she’s not a risk-taker, but he was convinced she could do it. He died about a year after she started, when the business was still struggling, and that was one of the times I've really admired my mother, the way she didn’t let his death crush her and stop her from living her dream. She knew that continuing to work on the practice is what he would have wanted, so that’s exactly what she did. And now she’s doing great. I was really proud of her then. It just hurt that she could never seem to be as proud of me for acting.”

Lexa smiles encouragingly, brushing her fingers softly through Clarke’s unruly waves.

“My dad could always see how much I loved acting. You know the drill, when you’re a kid and you tell people you want to be an actress, they’re all so quick to try and warn you off it. They’re all ‘well, that’s very admirable, but acting is such a fickle business, are you sure you don’t want to do something a bit more reliable?’ No one ever just says ‘that’s great! Tell me about acting,’ you know? For a long time they put me off it. It wasn’t that I doubted myself, I knew it was what I wanted to do, but I couldn’t stand the idea of all my parent’s friends shaking their heads at me and thinking what a stupid decision I’d made. My dad was the one who talked me out of that. He taught me the ‘screw the haters’ mantra that I still use all the time. He used to say to me, and I remember this so well, he used to say ‘Clarke, you do what you want. And if that all goes wrong, that’s your responsibility and you can fix it on your terms. You’re only on this earth once, and there’s no point spending it trying to please other people. Just be yourself because everyone else is already taken.”

“I like that,” Lexa smiles.

“He made me the way I am today. That doesn’t change because he died. He’s still my dad, and he’ll always have a special place in my heart.”

“I won’t try and make it sound like I knew your father, although I wish I had, but I bet he'd be really proud of you and your life right now. I think you’ve done him a great justice by pursuing your dream like he wanted you to, and I know he’d be proud that you’re you and you don’t apologize for it.”

There is silence for a moment as Clarke takes in Lexa’s words, so grateful for her unconditional support.

“I thought that, maybe, after I’m done with The 100 and the movie with Bellamy, I might organize a film to raise money for Cancer Research. I’m no scientist, and I don’t expect to magically find the cure for cancer through acting in a movie, but I know that I would have done anything in the world for just one more day with my dad. I like to think that I could give someone that.”

Lexa shakes her head slightly, so slightly that Clarke only feels it because the tips of their noses are brushing.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“My ass has gone numb,” Clarke complains, fidgeting around. “Sit up with me? I can’t bear to be more than 10cm away from you.”

“You’re such a sap, oh my god.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” she agrees, shuffling backwards to where Clarke is now propped against the headboard, arms wide. She wriggles until she’s comfortably situated between Clarke’s legs, both arms wrapped around her waist. She drops her head back to rest it on Clarke’s shoulder and sighs contentedly.

“In the spirit of sharing, I would like to tell you something too.”

They're whispering again, and she isn’t sure why when they're the only ones in the apartment, but she prefers it this way. It’s more private, more suited to the moment that is theirs and only theirs.

“This is, uh, something pretty big, I guess. Very few people know about it. The media definitely don’t. It’s very personal and hard to talk about, but like you say, I don’t want there to any secrets between us. Just promise not to say anything until I’m done, ok?”

Clarke looks concerned but nods. “You can tell me anything.”

“I know. So, I’ve told you a lot about when I was a teenager, but mostly the fun stuff, and I’ve never really told you about the stuff that was…not so fun. There’s no subtle way to say this. I was depressed, for a while. It was roughly between the ages of 16 and 19, when my career really started to take off. It wasn’t specifically related to that, it wasn’t that I couldn’t stand the new attention or the lack of privacy, or anything, like it is for some child stars. I just got really, really sad and I didn’t know why. My parents and I weren’t the best of friends, but they never mistreated me and they didn’t care that I was into girls, so it wasn’t really a family thing. I had lots of friends, and lots of girlfriends, and this great career that was really taking off and yet I found myself completely unable to get excited about _anything._ It used to make me feel so guilty. People have real problems, you know, and there I was, with this pretty good life, and I couldn’t bring myself to care. Mental disorders are really frightening, mainly because you don’t have an explanation or a solution, and everyone around you is telling you your feelings aren’t valid, and it feels like you have nowhere to turn. I never hurt myself, although I had a friend who did, and that’s something else I feel very strongly about. If people weren’t so afraid of things they didn’t understand, kids probably wouldn’t feel so alone and like they have no other options. They are real illnesses, and we’re never going to fix them if people don’t talk about them.” She takes a deep breath.

“Anyway. I didn’t physically hurt myself, but I did in a way with drugs and alcohol. At first, they completely numbed the pain, and I quickly became addicted to that feeling. After a while it didn’t even make me feel better anymore, just pathetic, but I couldn’t stop. I took drugs way too often and it became a very, very bad habit. And no one noticed. So I kept taking more. Just waiting for someone to say ‘she’s not ok. I can see that she’s not ok,' and no one ever did. You probably don’t remember this, but a few months back when you were at my apartment I took 3 paracetamol, and I saw you looking at me funny. They don’t really have an effect on me now. I used to take 5 at a time, minimum, and eventually I wound up in the hospital. Instead of talking to me and trying to understand, my parents just sent me to rehab and then never talked about it again. They threw money at the problem instead of trying to find a solution. And I don’t resent them for that; they were coping the best way they knew how. Not everyone is cut out to be a parent. Mine weren’t, and that’s ok, I just…I had to learn to fix myself all alone.”

Lexa suspects Clarke might be crying and thinks she might be about to as well. She swallows and tries to continue.

“I’m not telling you this so that you’ll feel sorry for me. This is my past and I'm not proud of it, but it made me the person I am. I worked really hard to change my ways, to find a foolproof formula to being happy. I don’t keep it a secret because I’m ashamed, because people who suffer mental illness should never be ashamed. It’s only a secret because people would start using it to define me, and I’ve worked too hard to let that happen. I think about that time in my life often, because it reminds me why I’ve worked so hard, and that if you find something that makes you happy, you _have_ to go after it, no matter the cost.”

She isn’t sure whether to continue, thinking she’s about to cross the line between making sense and just talking a load of nonsense, and because she can’t see Clarke’s face she is unable to gauge her reaction. She opens her mouth to carry on but stops short at the feeling of soft lips tickling the side of her neck and a single tear that does not belong to her trickling down to her collarbone. Clarke is murmuring sweet nothings into her skin.

“I love you.

You’re beautiful.

You’re brave.

I care about you.

I'll never leave you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Lexa says, half laughing, half tearing up.

“Don’t be stupid. Never apologize for what you just told me. I can’t believe you think _I’m_ the brave one when you went through all that and still got to where you are today.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Clarke replies, wrapping her arms even tighter around her middle, wishing it was possible to convey emotions and feelings without actually having to string the words together.

“You’re ok now?”

“I have been for a long, long time.”

“Ok. I love you.”

“I know.”

“Do you really think you've found a 'fool proof formula for happiness? I'm not sure that exists...”

Lexa half turns in Clarke’s arms and presses their foreheads together. Their faces are so close that their tears have become one and the same, and Lexa thinks it’s symbolic. Sharing that has made her feel even closer to Clarke than before. They have no boundaries left. Their lives are inextricably linked, and now that she will be sharing every day with Clarke, the future has suddenly become far more appealing.

“I don't know. But with you, Clarke, I think I’ve come pretty close.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...that was a pretty intense chapter. Some issues that hit very close to home for me in there, so I hope you think I've done it justice. This one just had to have a chapter title for the amount of time they say it. And there we have it, the story of Clarke and Jake and Lexa's mystery past. People are flawed, and Clarke thinks that's pretty beautiful.  
> They're both such girlfriend goals *cries in forever alone*.  
> Hope you enjoyed this one :D The next chapter is going to be interesting. I haven't decided whether to actually write Christmas dinner with Abby yet or just to reference it. Hmmm....  
> I'm @HARMONSANGEL on twitter and jedihaught on tumblr and I would love to hear your thoughts.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa is a good person, Clarke is a sex goddess, and Bellamy gives Clarke a bit of a shock.

As predicted, dinner with Clarke’s mother goes off pretty much without incident. Abby makes polite, if a little skeptical, conversation with Lexa about her career and ends up talking mostly about herself. An unexpected highlight for Clarke is the introduction of Abby’s new boyfriend of the past 5 months, Dr. Marcus Kane, whom she met on a consultancy at the general hospital and has grown very fond of. He's not what Clarke had been anticipating. Since Jake’s death her mother had entertained a string of men who were all alarmingly similar, none of whom had stuck around for any period of time. Although Clarke hated to say this sort of thing, they were effectively knockoffs of her father, with the same fair hair, strong build and passion for engineering. These were the traits she had so loved in her father, and now therefore hated in anyone else due to the painful reminders they brought. She had hated the rate at which her mother had gone through men, as if she was trying to fill the gap Jake had left with as many different boyfriends as possible, and the fact that she wasn’t just trying to replace him by falling for someone else, but trying to _actually replace_ him, with someone _just like_ him. _It’s futile,_ Clarke had tried to tell her. _There is no one like Dad._

But Marcus, thankfully, is different. He is a fairly slight man, with long hair and a beard that remind Clarke of a kind uncle who would always remember your birthday. He is a doctor and has very little knowledge that Jake would have shared, which is almost refreshing, and most importantly, he seems to not just tolerate Abby but have genuine feelings for her. He is kind and open with Clarke and Lexa and asks them about their relationship, how they met and what their plans are for the next few months, all while Abby purses her lips and gives Clarke the impression that she has just eaten a sour lemon. When Clarke starts clearing plates he jumps up to help, shooing Lexa away and following Clarke into the kitchen to start on the dishes. Clarke instantly starts worrying about leaving Lexa alone with her mother and has to resist the urge to just dump all their dirty dishes in the sink and rush back to her side.

“I’m sorry I left you alone with my mom. Marcus foiled my plan to get us both out the room,” she apologizes later as they walk the short distance from the car park to Clarke’s apartment, joined hands swinging between them, Sam and Elliot following discreetly behind.

“It’s ok. I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“She didn’t…you know, make any…comments or anything?”

“Homophobic comments? No, definitely not. I don’t think she really has a problem with us in that respect, Clarke. I think she’s just worried about the impact having a relationship in the spotlight is going to have on you.”

“The impact it’s going to have on her, more like…” Clarke scoffs.

“I know I don’t know her like you do, but she seems like a decent person to me. A little terrifying maybe, but overall well-meaning. I think you should make more of an effort with her. Why don’t you invite her as your date to our premiere?”

Clarke stops dead and Lexa doesn’t notice until Clarke’s stationary arm pulls her backwards. She’s looking at her like she’s just announced she plans to move to the Yemen.

“What?! Lexa, obviously _you’re_ going to be my date to our premiere,” she looks at her sternly.

“Ok, fine, that was a bad idea, but you know what I mean. Ask her to come see you on set of The 100 or something. Can we keep walking, please, I think my nipples are about to fall off.”

“Oh well, we can’t have that, can we?” Clarke laughs, looping her arm through Lexa’s and pulling her a bit closer as they return to their brisk pace from a moment before. From behind them Clarke hears Sam chuckling softly into the lapels of his coat.

“Those poor guys, they’ve spent half of Christmas day following us around.”

“Oh, Christ, Sam and Elliot, I’d forgotten they were even there,” Lexa whips around and acknowledges there are in fact two burly men following dutifully behind them.

“You’ve got to stop doing that. They’re real people, you know,” Clarke teases.

“God, I know. I’m just so used to them. Can I send them home? It’s only 5 or so more blocks to your place.”

“Sure. I don’t even see any paparazzi. Christmas Day must be a step too far, even for them.”

“Oh they’re here, I assure you. You just have to know where to look,” she says, gesturing to the bright light of a camera poking out of an alleyway in their direction. “I think we can handle ourselves, though. After all, you are my third bodyguard.”

“Do you ever think it would be really funny to do something completely outrageous in front of them, just to see their reaction?”

“It’s the kind of thing that would be funny at the time, not the day after.”

Clarke looks mock disappointed. “So I can’t stick my hand down your pants?”

“Twice already today in your childhood bedroom wasn’t enough?” Lexa pokes her tongue out. “I think that would make us both virtually unhireable.”

“Technically, that was _your_ hand in _my_ pants.”

“Well, you’re very welcome to try it, Clarke, if you’re ok with a life of unemployment.”

“Damn. Maybe next time,” Clarke laughs, as Lexa turns to Sam and Elliot and informs them they’re good from here. Normally there is a bit of grumbling about leaving her alone, but Clarke can see they’re both pretty keen to get home as soon as possible on Christmas Day.

Almost as soon as they have turned around and headed back in the opposite direction, the cameras seem to close in and approximately triple in numbers. She supposes they were always there; they just didn’t want to risk the wrath of Lexa Woods’ two 6ft5 bodyguards.

Clarke doesn’t mind too much. She decides Christmas Day is not the time for her customary middle finger to the cameras, so she just smiles and holds Lexa a little tighter.

“We might as well put on a bit of a show. Can I kiss you?” she whispers.

Lexa hums in thought. “I think that would be acceptable.”

“Good,” Clarke laughs and spins her around, pinning her to the wall of the nearest building and pressing their lips together. The frequency of the flashes around them increases significantly and some brave members of the paparazzi start jeering, but Clarke couldn’t care less. She'd always thought kissing in the snow was one of those things that looked great in movies but would be wildly uncomfortable in reality, but she's rapidly changing her mind. The feeling of Lexa’s warm mouth in direct contrast to the icy touch of the rest of her skin is breathtaking, and Clarke gasps when a cold, ungloved hand sneaks under her shirt and presses against her stomach. The kiss lasts simultaneously forever and for no time at all, and they both pull away laughing at the shell shocked faces of their little crowd. Clarke brushes a wayward snowflake from where it had settled on Lexa’s eyebrow. She kisses the back of her hand and takes it once again in her own, dragging her off down the street towards her warm and welcoming apartment.

Lexa wraps both arms around her as they walk and although it's impractical, she has no intention of letting go. “That was a front page kiss, right there.”

“I don’t know how anyone else is _ever_ on the front page when we exist, to be honest.” 

Lexa ruffles her hair.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

***

**2 days later**

“Whoah,” Lexa breathes, collapsing back onto the mattress, breathing heavily. Clarke gives her a smug smile and leans down to kiss her, twisting her fingers experimentally where they are still buried inside her. “ _Fuck, Clarke,”_ Lexa moans, arching her back and straining against the pillows as a second orgasm takes her by surprise. It is a few moments until she's able to speak again. “Jesus fucking Christ, why are you so good at that?”

Clarke just grins and wriggles back up to lie beside her, one leg thrown over Lexa’s. She makes a big show of sucking her fingers into her mouth, one at a time, and Lexa lets out another groan. “You’re killing me, Clarke.”

Clarke nuzzles her nose into the side of Lexa’s neck. “I want you to show me how to…you know…”

“Go down on me? You can say it, Clarke, they’re not dirty words.”

“Sorry. But will you? Show me?”

“Absolutely. But not right now. I’m spent.”

“You’re boring.”

“And you’re insatiable. How are you still going? I don’t think we’ve left this bed for two days.”

“That’s not true. You went home yesterday to get your dildo. Which we haven’t used yet, by the way.”

“And that is a shame, but we have time. Maybe it’s because you’re three years younger than me, and my stamina just isn't what it used to be...”

“Or maybe it’s just because I’m awesome.”

“You will be the death of me.”

“Stop being a pussy. I’m going to train you.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“We _should_ probably get out of bed though. I’m supposed to be finding a new job…” she shakes her head, worry creasing her forehead. Lexa wants to kiss away every frown line.

“Didn’t you say Bell texted you yesterday about a project you might like? Why don’t you go see him? I need to go home and get some more clothes anyway.”

“That’s not a bad idea. Although you know I don’t like it when you wear clothes…” she teases, nipping her ear lobe.

“I hate you.”

“You don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“I love you.”

“I know. Now get off me, get out of this bed and get in that shower. You stink of sex and sweat.”

“Ugh, fine,” Clarke sighs, throwing the duvet off and padding towards the bathroom. Lexa watches her, or more specifically her ass, make its way into the bathroom.

Clarke can’t resist one more try. Over her shoulder she adds:

“Are you sure you don’t want to join me? I can make it quick.”

Lexa considers it for approximately half a second. “I’m going to hell,” she announces, rolling out of bed and heading towards the shower.

“That’s my girl.”

***

“I just don’t understand why you won’t tell me who she is. You say it’s not a big deal, but you’re the one making it into a big deal by keeping it a secret. We said no secrets, remember?” Clarke is ranting at Raven over the phone, still trying to convince her to reveal the identity of her girlfriend, as she trudges up the 4 flights of stairs leading to Bellamy’s apartment.

“Yes, well, that was you. Different rules apply to me,” Raven replies confidently, genuinely convinced that this is a fair statement.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“I’m god.”

“Of course you are,” Clarke pauses for a second, unsure if her ears are deceiving her.

“Is that…Raven, can I hear the shower running?! Is she there right now?!”

A beat of silence.

“No…that’s Octavia.”

“I just spoke to Octavia; she’s still at Lincoln’s parents. Am I the only actress that can actually lie? You and Lexa are frickin’ useless.”

Raven seizes the opportunity to shift the attention from her girlfriend to Clarke’s.

“Hey, no one is bad as Lexa.”

Clarke thinks back to her attempt to get them out of going clubbing on Christmas Eve. “That’s probably true.”

“So what are you doing tonight? More marathon sex?”

She briefly considers arguing but decides against it. “Probably, but later. I’ve actually just arrived outside Bellamy’s front door, so I’ve got to go.”

“You’re at Bellamy’s?!”

“Yes…?”

“I, uh…I just saw him, actually, at the store. He’s not in.”

“I can hear the TV. You’re so weird. Bye, Raven.”

She's half aware of some panicked stammering on the end of the line but doesn’t think anything of it and hangs up. Who knows what goes on in Raven Reyes’ mind?

Slipping her phone into her back pocket, she switches her bottle of wine into her right hand and pushes the front door open with her left, shouting ‘Hey Bell!’ as she makes her way into the kitchen.

In retrospect, she probably should have called Bellamy’s name before she barged into his apartment with no warning, but she is so used to entering to the sight of him sat alone on the sofa playing video games, she doesn’t think of it as a necessity.

The first thing she notices is that there is some crappy Christmas movie that Bellamy wouldn’t be caught dead watching playing on the TV, which is her first indication that something is up. The second thing she notices is that Bellamy is very much shirtless, and very much not alone, and the third thing is that the equally shirtless man beneath him is none other than her ex-boyfriend, John Murphy.

“OH MY GOD!” she shouts, dropping the bottle and splattering red wine all over her white trousers. She whips around to face the wall, but the image is seared into her memory. “Oh my _god_!” _So that's why Raven was being so strange._

“Clarke! I, uh…I wasn’t expecting you,” says Bellamy, clambering off the sofa and standing in the middle of the room awkwardly, unsure where to go from here. “Uh...you remember that guy I mentioned?”

Clarke can practically hear the humiliation in his voice, and tries to remind herself this is probably equally as embarrassing for them as it is for her.

“Yep. Hi, John. Long time no see,” she tries from her position facing the wall. John just laughs. _He almost sounds like he’s enjoying this._

“I’m…uh, just going to go put some clothes on…” says Bellamy as he waddles past her, hands over his crotch.

Clarke raises her eyes to the ceiling. _Please, God, if you’re up there, save me from this horrifically awkward situation. You can abduct me, honestly, I won’t even complain._

John, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to find it awkward at all. He sits up slowly and reaches for his shirt and trousers, laughing heartily.

“You can turn around, Clarke, it’s not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before.”

Clarke goes even redder and turns around slowly to see John sat with his arms folded looking extremely smug.

“So you’re…”

“Bellamy’s boyfriend? Yeah.”

“That’s…unexpected.”

“No more unexpected than you leaving me for a famous actress. You’re not the only one who can have a bisexual awakening, Clarke.”

_That’s…a fair point, actually._

“John, that’s…that’s great, actually," she realises as the shock wears off slightly. "You and Bell have always got on really well. You make a great couple,” and as she says it she nods, genuinely believing it. Bellamy chooses this moment to re-enter, fully clothed, sporting a huge grin and looking very pleased with himself.

“So we have the Princess’ blessing? That’s awesome!” He plops back down on the sofa next to John and looks gratefully at Clarke. “Thanks, C. I…uh, I thought you’d be mad,” he admits.

“I’m a little mad that you told Raven before you told me.”

“I didn’t tell Raven. She walked in. I didn’t tell anyone, not even Lincoln.”

“You’ve got to remember to lock that door,” John mutters.

“I thought you might be upset that I stole another one of your boyfriends…” says Bellamy, his lips curling up into a teasing smile.

“Well, he isn’t my boyfriend, and wasn’t when you got together, so it’s ok, I guess…”

“Jared wasn’t your boyfriend when we got together, either.”

“Yes, he was! We were just on a break!”

Bellamy chuckles because that never fails to get Clarke riled up, but stops laughing at the murderous look on John’s face at the mention of his past flame. “Sorry,” he mutters.

_Quick, say something, before it gets awkward again._

“I, uh, I brought wine, but it’s…uh…” she gestures towards the large spreading stain on Bellamy’s carpet. “Sorry. You took me by surprise.”

Bellamy gets up from the sofa and looks like he is going to hug her before he thinks better of it. “I should have told you.”

Clarke thinks back to when she'd been keeping her relationship with Lexa a secret. She is about to tell Bellamy that for this reason, she understands, but decides against it with John in the room. Even if he is happily in a new relationship, she still doesn’t think she should be rubbing the girlfriend she left him for in his face.

“It’s fine. Good for you guys. And good for you, J. You know, bi pride and all that,” she laughs nervously. “Bell, I wanted to talk to you about that show, the one you texted me about, but I’ll just…I’ll call you tomorrow,” she turns to leave, but he catches her elbow.

“Can we get coffee tomorrow? We should talk about this properly,” he says under his breath.

“Of course. It’s ok, though, really Bell, I’m not mad. Just…surprised.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” she kisses him on the cheek like she normally does and heads for the stairs, still pretty much unable to process what she had just witnessed. As she races down the street, head down to both protect her from the wind and hide her from the cameras, she retrieves her phone and dials the number one contact on her speed dial.

Lexa’s cheery voice picks up on the second ring. “Hey! How did it go with Bellamy?”

“Hello, my love. You are not going to _believe_ what just happened to me.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehe....that one was a bit of fun after the last one. If anyone's wondering if they're going to stop saying 'I love you' so much, the answer is a firm no. Also, the reason it's always 'I love you' 'I know' is because of a certain fictional couple that go by the names of Han Solo and Leia Organa. If you don't know who they are, I don't claim you. I don't ship that many straight couples but I love them with all my heart and they deserved better, so this is my little tribute to the amazing Hanleia.  
> I've written everything I plotted now, so I'm pretty much just writing off the top of my head. I'm not really ready to finish the fic though, so if anyone has any ideas for where the story could go I am all ears.  
> Hope you liked this one. Hit me up on twitter @HARMONSANGEL or comment if you liked it :)  
> \- Amy x


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy comes out to the world, the gang spend NYE together, and clexa get to try out Lexa's dildo. WARNING: this chapter is seriously smutty. A lot more smutty than past chapters, so if you're not into explicit smut then this one probably isn't for you. For the people who read this who know me personally, please don't judge me!! Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> (Also, it was really late when I finished this and I couldn't be bothered to edit so I'm going to do that tomorrow, so that's the reason for any glaring mistakes). Enjoy!

**1 week later**

_rebelkingbblake_ : **Sooo…I think it might be time to tell you guys something. There’s been speculation about this for some time but I’m just going to come out (pun completely intended) and say it: I’M GAY! The man in this picture is my beautiful boyfriend John, and I’ve never been happier. Frankly I’m glad I am finally able to tell the truth about this because I’ve been seeing some very disturbing comments on social media recently regarding the real life relationship between myself and Clarke Griffin. To all those who ‘ship’ me and Clarke: please stop. We are just friends, and we will never be more than that. If you insist on ‘the right to ship whatever you want’ then please do it amongst yourselves and don’t drag Clarke and I into it. I must admit it makes me very uncomfortable, as a gay man, to have a relationship with a woman forced upon me, but I understand that until today you were not aware of that. I hope this announcement will change some of your minds. I have also seen some extremely homophobic comments on Twitter about the same sex relationships on our show and about Clarke’s personal relationship with Lexa and that needs to stop. We have our own lives. We are not your property, and we do not exist to satisfy your deranged fantasies. I would hope that those of you who are genuine fans of Clarke and I and our careers would support us no matter who we’re dating. Those are the fans I love and appreciate. That’s all I have to say and I hope you guys enjoy the final season of The 100 :D**

**#BellarkeIsOverParty #SorryThatWasRude #ImActuallyNotSorry #IsThisHowTheCoolKidsHashtag**

Clarke shakes her head and laughs as she scrolls to the bottom of Bellamy’s marathon Instagram post, noting the addition of the two men holding hands emoji and three grinning faces. She cannot deny that the attached photo is adorable: a well-timed snap of Bellamy’s wide smile and John kissing his cheek. Knowing the nature of their crazy fans, he’s probably going to get some pretty negative feedback on the post, but she thinks he can probably handle it and she’s overjoyed that he’s finally decided to put his fears aside and be open with the world.

“Lex!” She yells. “Have you seen what Bell just put on Instagram?”

Lexa strolls into the kitchen in nothing but her underwear, a mascara wand in one hand and only half of her face made up. “No?”

Clarke immediately forgets what she was talking about.

“Is that new lingerie?”

“Oh, crap, it was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Well, consider me surprised. And horny,” she adds, not bothering to hide her eager grin as her eyes roam Lexa’s almost naked body.

“Behave,” Lexa warns, pointing the mascara brush threateningly in her direction.

“Why am I being surprised again?”

“Well, it was meant to be a present, I guess, for your last night in New York.”

“So, you in lingerie is a present for me?”

“Are you complaining?” Lexa arches an eyebrow.

“Absolutely not,” says Clarke, licking her lips and hooking a finger into the middle of the lacy bra, pulling her forwards so that they are pressed flush against each other. Clarke kisses her full on the mouth before trailing her kisses downwards and sucking a nipple into her mouth through the material, tugging with her teeth as she rocks her thigh into Lexa’s barely clothed crotch. She releases a breathy moan as she feels warmth and wetness hitting her thigh, and untangles her hand from Lexa’s hair with the intention of sliding it inside Lexa’s sexy new lingerie instead.

“Nope,” says Lexa, gripping her wrist hard and reversing away from Clarke. “No funny business. You need to start getting ready.”

Clarke looks disbelievingly between Lexa and the damp patch on her jeans. “But you -,”

“Will be just as turned on tonight. _After the party.”_

“Ugh, why do you always do this?” Clarke whines.

“Because if you had your way we would just be fucking 24/7 and we’d never get anything done.”

“The only thing I want to do is you, though.”

“Nice try. Now go and get dressed. I’ve put what I’m wearing on the bed so you can match if you want to.”

Clarke sighs dramatically and pecks her on the lips.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

***

“Princess!” Bellamy greets them at the door of the club, wrapping Clarke in a tight hug and crinkling her dress.

Lexa frowns at him for the use of the nickname.

“Oh, sorry Lexa. Do you want me to stop calling her that?”

“I don’t have a huge issue with it, other than that the reason behind it is completely untrue,” she smirks and Clarke shoots her a look as if to say ‘was that completely unnecessary?’

Bellamy just laughs heartily and slaps them both on the back. He’s slurring his words and Clarke wonders exactly how many drinks he’s already had. He gestures to a couple of tables at the back where most of their group is already sitting. As they make their way through the crowd, Clarke can see John, Jasper, Monty, Octavia, Lincoln, Raven and –

“Niylah?!” says Lexa as they arrive at the table. “What are you doing here?” She doesn’t mean it to come out as rude as it does and immediately regrets her wording. She thinks she sees John glare at her out of the corner of her eye. “I mean, sorry, this is just…a bit of a surprise. I haven’t seen you in months.”

Niylah looks as glamorous as ever and completely unfazed as she stands up to embrace both Clarke and Lexa politely. “Octavia invited me. I’ve run into her a couple of times at the gym. She said it might be nice if we all hung out together for New Years, especially as John’s here. I didn’t know you two were coming, though. If you want I can go...”

She looks uncertainly at Clarke, who shakes her head vigorously. “No, absolutely not. We’re all friends here, right?”

Lexa nods. “Yes, definitely. You’re not here with a date? You know…that girl you mentioned a while back?” She says, trying to sound supportive and not threatening in any way.

“Um, no…she couldn’t make it. We’re still going strong though,” she says brightly. “What do you guys want to drink? I was just getting a round in.”

After she has disappeared off towards the bar in a cloud of glitter and blonde hair, Lexa leans down slightly to whisper in Clarke’s ear:

“Are you sure you’re ok with this? We can always go somewhere else, just the two of us?”

“Lexa, it’s totally fine. My ex is here too, remember?” Clarke chuckles as she watches Lexa’s eyes drift to John, who is practically shielded from view by Bellamy’s mop of dark curls as he whispers god knows what in his ear. Lexa takes a deep breath. _This is fine. John’s happy, Niylah’s happy and you’re happy with Clarke. No one got really hurt. Just relax._

Clarke is soothing her with almost the exact same words, and she straightens up, smiling and looking around. “Ok, yeah, it’s all good. I think we’ve got some catching up to do, though,” she chuckles, looking at their rosy cheeked friends who seem to have got a bit of a head start on the drinking front.

“How drunk do you want to get tonight? I only ask because I don’t want to get really wasted and be annoying if you’re not in the mood.”

Lexa gives her a mildly amused look. “As lovely as it is of you to ask my permission before you get absolutely hammered, you can drink however much you want, Clarke, I won’t hold it against you. And I don’t know about you but I was intending on getting pretty fucking drunk.”

Clarke laughs and lights up as Niylah returns with their drinks. Touching the corner of her glass to Lexa’s she smiles tenderly, all shining blue eyes and unconditional love.

“To two amazing months,” she toasts.

Lexa adds: “And many more to come,”

***

“Nope. There’s just no way. Sorry, but no. No one is gayer than me.”

“Is gay _er_ even a word?”

“Yeah, Lexa, you can’t just make up a word.”

“Fine, _more_ gay.”

“We’ve said the word gay so many times I’m not even sure it’s word anymore.”

2 hours later, at almost midnight, it’s safe to say that the time for coherent conversation has ended, and the period of weird, baffling drunken debates has taken over. After Bellamy’s recent coming out to the public, they have somehow got onto the topic of who is gayer between Lexa or Bellamy. Sorry, _more gay_. Naturally, in their drunken states, they are both convinced of their status as the gayest of the gays.

Bellamy aggressively shakes his head. “You have no evidence for that statement. You don’t even look gay.”

“Neither do you.”

“When did you know you were gay?”

“I always knew I was gay.”

“Have you ever slept with a man?”

“ _Ew._ No.”

“Hey!” Jasper exclaims in protest.

Clarke chooses this moment to trip over Raven’s wayward shoe as she returns to the table with a fresh round of drinks, upending the tray all over Lexa and Bellamy.

“Jesus _,_ fuck, I’m so sorry,” she slurs, making a feeble attempt to mop at Bellamy’s white shirt, which is now completely see-through and emitting a strong odor of vodka. Or perhaps that’s just Bellamy himself. Clarke isn’t sure.

Lexa picks a lemon out of her hair and flicks it across the table. She hits Monty square in the nose and they both start giggling hysterically.

Bellamy is looking down at his shirt, looking rather pleased with the new development of the whole club being able to see his abs.

“Should I just take the whole shirt off?” he queries.

“Yes!” shouts John, at the same time as Clarke and Octavia saying ‘NO.” Bellamy looks confused but thankfully leaves the shirt on for now.

Clarke attempts to school her features into a serious and apologetic expression, but fails when she notices a lime sliding down Bellamy’s shoulder and a cocktail stick embedded in Lexa’s matted curls.

“I resent this implication that someone can ‘look gay’, by the way. You two of all people should know not to stereotype,” Niylah scolds, looking disapprovingly at the pair of giggling drowned rats across the table.

Bellamy flicks his head to unstick dark curls from his forehead and fixes Lexa was a stern look. “Tell you what; let’s go to New York pride next summer. That’s the ultimate test of the gay.”

“I’m in,” Raven chimes in, to the tune of murmured agreement from the whole table.

Lexa sits back in her chair and sighs contentedly, despite the cocktail stick poking her just above her ear and the slow trickle of lemon scented vodka into her cleavage. She doesn’t even care that she smells like a mixture between the home of an alcoholic and an ash tray, she’s having way too much fun to let anything bother her. There is raucous laughter echoing around her as conversation bounces between her friends, and Clarke’s knee brushes hers ever so slightly as she laughs emphatically at something Octavia has said.

She has a new manager, Luna, and will be returning to Los Angeles in a few weeks to get back to work, after a short holiday with Clarke in Canada. She’s not naive enough to believe in fate and good karma, and she know that nothing is ever perfect, but her life is making a pretty good attempt at it right now, and she’s not complaining.

It occurs to her that Luna might like to join them, as she had mentioned she was just doing New Year's Eve with a few friends and would be open to any club suggestions. She pulls out her phone to drop her a quick message, but in her inebriated state her hands betray her, and the phone crashes to the floor. She crouches down under the table to retrieve it, reciting the mantra of all iPhone users: ‘ _Please don’t be cracked, PLEASE don’t be cracked.’_ Just as she spies it under Lincoln’s chair, something else catches her attention.

There is a foot, staggeringly high sparkly silver stiletto discarded on the floor beneath, rubbing sensually against the inside of someone’s thigh. The owner of the thigh is wearing a hot pink dress with a slit up the side, and Lexa tries to remember who it was sat directly opposite her at the table. Her addled mind is not at it’s best, but she’s certain that the only people round their table who could acceptably be playing footsie are Lincoln and Octavia, John and Bellamy, or she and Clarke. And this is none of the above. Then, the mystery girl in the hot pink dress reaches down to readjust her dress and reveals a tiny tattoo of a wrench on the side of her knee.

Lexa has a lightbulb moment.

“ _I’m seeing someone new. I think you may have met her once or twice.”_

_“Raven, when are you going to reveal the identity of your secret girlfriend?”_

She experiences an out of body experience, where everything Raven has said, or refused to say, about her new girlfriend rushes at Lexa in a series of revelatory flashbacks. The secrecy, the outrage when Bellamy threatened to expose her; suddenly it all makes sense.

_Raven and Niylah. Huh, who would have thought it._

She grabs her phone and straightens up very quickly, narrowing avoiding hitting her head on the edge of the table. ( _She doubts she would have really felt it anyway)._ She finds Clarke’s hand with her own and plucks her up and away from the table. “We need to talk.”

Clarke looks bemused but follows her obediently. Lexa pretends not to hear the wolf whistles and cat calls as she pushes their way into the bathroom.

Clarke seems to have the same idea as the friends they left at the table and immediately tries to kiss her. Lexa dodges her lips and tries not to give in to her urges at the adorable pout on Clarke’s face.

“Raven and Niylah.”

“What?”

“Niylah. She’s Raven’s secret girlfriend.”

“How - ,”

“They’re playing footsie. At the table. Right now.”

“Are you sure their legs weren’t just touching accidentally and you’re massively overreacting?”

“Clarke, are you going to make me describe the proximity of my ex-girlfriend’s foot to your friends crotch in explicit detail? They’re dating, I’m telling you.”

Clarke is silent for a moment, lips ever so slightly mouthing her thoughts, as if she needs the extra movement to fully concentrate. After a while, she gives a decisive nod and looks back at Lexa.

“It makes perfect sense.”

“It does?”

“Well, Niylah told you she was seeing someone you’d met, right? And Raven got _super_ defensive at my place when she thought Bellamy was going to tell us who it was. They’re both into girls, they’re both hot, they’re both kind of…,” she hesitates, trying to think of the politically correct way to say it, “...out there, with, you know, the way they dress...and stuff. I think it’s a match made in heaven, personally.”

Lexa is gobsmacked.

“Clarke, Niylah is pretty much the most vanilla person I have ever known. I mean sure, she likes brightly coloured clothes and makeup, but believe me, she’s not into the...stuff...that Raven’s into.”

“For God’s sake, you make it sound like she’s into satanic rituals or something. Raven just likes a bit of spice in the bedroom.”

“She did a handstand against a wall for half an hour and ate a girl out at the same time,” Lexa states bluntly.

“So? Doesn’t that sound fun to you?”

“Um, no, not particularly. I’m not flexible enough,” she pauses, seeing the funny side of it. “You could try it though, if you want,” she winks.

Clarke grins and punches her lightly on the arm. “Why do you care, anyway? I hope I don’t need to remind you that she’s your _ex_ girlfriend. And a grown woman, who can do anything, or anyone she wants.”

“I know, silly,” she laughs, starting to back Clarke slowly into an open cubicle. “I guess sex is just on my mind after your little stunt earlier.”

Clarke looks indignant. “ _My_ stunt?! You were the one walking round in the world’s sexiest lingerie, tempting me and then telling me I have to wait until later,” blue eyes look imploringly into green, dark and full of affection.

“Well, if you want,” Lexa whispers, kicking the door shut with her foot smoothing her hand up and down Clarke’s thigh, creeping further and further under her dress, “I could give you a little preview now…”

“We’re in a toilet stall. This is so not sexy.”

“But you’re sexy, so it’s ok.”

Clarke seems to contemplate the logic of that response for a moment, before leaning back in to rejoin their lips. Lexa hooks her arms just under her ass, preparing to lift her onto the little shelf for more leverage, when she hears the unmistakable sound of a giggle escaping the blonde’s lips. She pauses, and Clarke continues to chuckle.

“ _Why_ are you laughing right now?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just...Raven said something to me, at the cast party, I think you were dancing so you didn’t hear it…” she trails off to laugh even harder and Lexa gives her a stern and impatient look. “Sorry. They made me tell them whether we’d had sex yet, and we hadn’t, and Raven said...she said something like ‘oh, that’s a shame, I hear she’s really great in bed,” Clarke drops her head to Lexa’s shoulder and continues to laugh uncontrollably, her body shaking a little from hysteria. “I thought that was ridiculous because there’s no way she could know that, but I guess...I guess now it’s pretty clear who told her.”

Lexa turns bright red.

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny.”

“I’m not amused.”

“I am.”

“What, you like the idea of other girls talking about me having sex? You don’t, you know, think that should be all for you?”

That shuts Clarke up a little. “Hey, I’m sorry. You’re right, they shouldn’t have been talking about it. But you know what Raven’s like. That girl doesn’t have a filter, anything is fair game with her. She probably didn’t even register that talking about sex with your ex isn’t something couples normally do.”

Lexa nods and ponders quietly. “I can’t believe they’re a couple…”

“Raven Reyes has a girlfriend. Whatever’s next?”

It is at this moment that Lexa realises her hand is still halfway up Clarke’s skirt and Clarke has one leg hooked around her waist. She slides the hand up provocatively, hiking her dress up further and reaching for her underwear, when she becomes aware of loud shouting from out in the main bar. Clarke has heard it too, and has frozen against her.

“Is that- ?”

“I think it’s- ,”

“Oh my god, it’s midnight, come on!” She grabs her hand and together they run out of the bathroom, just making it in time for:

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Their friends are all cheering madly, glasses clinking left right and center. Everyone is hugging, and Lincoln and Octavia are kissing. Raven and Niylah are engaged in an inappropriately long hug, and Clarke thinks it’s funny that they're not kissing in an attempt to keep something from them that they already know. But she has more important things to think about.

She wraps her arms around Lexa, who is cheering and laughing with Bellamy, and spins her so that they are nose to nose. Laughter and happiness mingling with each breath, she brushes her hand softly over her girlfriend’s lower back and presses their lips softly together, whispering directly against Lexa’s skin:

“Happy New Year, baby.”

“Happy New Year, my love.”

They stay that way for a minute, letting the music and overwhelming happiness of everyone around them resonate, just soaking up the moment.

Clarke is scared about going back to Vancouver. She will be seeing Lexa in a week or so for their getaway but after that they’ll be going weeks, even months without seeing each other. She’s never tried a long distance relationship before and she knows they will face challenges impossible to anticipate. She doubts she would’ve been prepared to give the long distance thing a go with any of her past relationships; they were easy and fun and convenient, but not made to last, and she wouldn’t have had any problems ending them out of practicality. This is different. She cannot face the prospect of a life without Lexa, without their relationship. They have become a part of each other, and it is easier said than done to shed a part of yourself. They will make it work, because the alternative just isn't worth thinking about. She just has to make it through the last few months of working on The 100, and then she can move to LA full time. She wonders when she started picturing a future with Lexa as her happy place; the place she lets her mind wander when she's stressed or angry or upset. All she wants is to keep making Lexa happy the way she does now. If she can do that, then nothing else matters.

“I love you so much,” she whispers, tugging Lexa’s hand up to press against where her heart is beating wildly. “That’s what you do to me. Not just now. Always.”

“I love you too. But alcohol consumption is also known to increase heart- ,”

“Why are you trying to kill my moment?”

“Sorry. Actually, while we’re doing the sappy stuff, I have a question for you.”

“If you’re about to ask me to marry you, the answer is yes.”

“Well that’s...good to know for the future. But no, not just yet. I was wondering if, when you get to LA in a few months, if you’d like to...live in my apartment, with me? I probably shouldn’t be asking, I’ve heard all the jokes about the lesbian and the U Haul, and we don’t know where we’ll be in a few months, but it just seems silly to me for us to have two apartments in the same place when we’re...hopefully...going to be spending most evenings together- ,”

Clarke’s answer is to plant one on her, taking her bottom lip gently between own and releasing it, pressing continuous soft kisses to her lips, and then her cheeks, and then down her neck.

“Yes,” _(kiss)_  “you idiot,” _(kiss)_  “of course the answer is yes,” _(kiss)_ “I love you so much...you have no idea.” She stops her kisses for a second and just looks at her, and Lexa’s heart flips at the feeling of having someone who just _knows_ you, who will always understand you and appreciate you without reservation.

“I assure you I do have some idea.”

The rest of the club is lost to them then. For Lexa, as it has been almost the whole time for the last 5 months, there is only Clarke. Clarke’s smile, Clarke’s laugh, Clarke’s beautiful body. Clarke’s soft, caressing kisses. Even when the kiss heats up, both of them needing it to progress further, it still manages to be loving. Lexa doesn’t want to do anything else for the rest of her life other than show and tell Clarke that she loves her.

As Clarke grasps her ass and gasps quietly against her neck, she realises they’re unintentionally putting on a bit of a show.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“I thought you would never ask.”

***

They collapse onto Clarke’s bed kissing hungrily, tongues and limbs tangling. The journey home had seemed like forever to Lexa, particularly as she had a very...specific...idea about what they should do tonight.

“Clarke,” she gasps. “You’re not too drunk for this, right?”

“Too drunk to have sex? Are you crazy? Absolutely not.”

“Ok, just checking. I thought we might, urm, do something a bit different...could we maybe...use my strap-on? That I brought over at Christmas?” she blushes, but her embarrassment fades away quickly at the expression that lights up Clarke’s face. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Lexa laughs, rolling off the bed and heading for the drawer where she had stashed it.

“Do you find it weird that I’ve been with men?” Clarke asks, lying on her side with her head propped up on one elbow, naked from the waist up. “It’s nice, right, for you…? Using these? It’s not gross because you’re not into men?”

“I suggested it, didn’t I? It’s not gross, it’s hot. It’s not like it’s the real thing. If you’ve slept with a guy whose penis is this brown and plastic looking I think you might want to to tell them to be concerned. And it doesn’t bother me that you’ve been with men. Thinking about you...in any sexual situation is hot, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

Clarke grins and crooks a finger at her. “In that case, get over here.”

Lexa sheds the rest of her clothes on the way over, only leaving on the underwear Clarke had so enjoyed earlier. She swings a leg over her hips, setting the dildo down for a second and getting lost in their kiss. “I want to fuck you first,” she husks sensually against Clarke’s ear, and the girl beneath her shudders.

“Are you sure? I mean, this wet patch on your underwear suggests you’re pretty keen to be fucked,” she teases, hooking a finger under the material, scraping the outside of Lexa’s core as she pulls the fabric towards her and then releases it, pretending that the sound of the underwear slapping back against Lexa’s wetness doesn't drive her absolutely crazy. Lexa squirms and tries to repress the noises inside her throat.

“I’m good. You first.” She sets about evening the playing field, undressing Clarke at impressive speed; she's getting pretty good at this now. She doesn't think she's ever going to get tired of it, doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to take Clarke’s clothes off and not stare in amazement at every inch of naked skin revealed. She loves the way Clarke looks at her as she slides her jeans to the ground, and responds by slipping a hand down the front of her dampened underwear.

“So wet, Clarke, oh my god,” she groans.

“I’m pretty much always like this around you, if that helps.”

“No, uh, that doesn’t help,” she replies, taking deep breaths, trying to clear her mind to focus on Clarke instead of the pounding need in her own underwear. She rubs her fingers around in the pool between Clarke’s legs, biting her lip. She spreads the juices along the length of her opening, knowing she needs to be as wet as possible for what's about to happen. She can see the evidence of Clarke’s arousal through the thin white material of her underwear and knows she's ready. She can smell her too, her heady scent filling the air as she drops to her knees and slides the soaked underwear down with her.

“Lie back,” she commands.

Now that she has Clarke’s underwear in her hands the smell is overpowering, and she can't resist bringing it closer to her face and inhaling deeply.

Clarke lets out a loud moan from her position on the bed and her legs visibly shake. “Holy fuck, Lexa. That’s so hot.” Although she thinks this every time she and Lexa have sex, she’s pretty certain she’s telling the truth this time when she says she’s never been so turned on in her life. She settles into the bedspread, waiting for Lexa to join her, loving being completely under her control.

Lexa picks up the dildo from where she had discarded it earlier and straddles Clarke, leaning down to kiss her. She wastes no time in brushing her tongue against her lips, seeking entrance. This is no time for soft. They kiss headily until Clarke can’t wait any longer and wraps both legs around Lexa’s ass, encouraging her down on top of her, their hips fitting together perfectly. She bites her lip. “Please...fuck me.”

“What do you want, Clarke?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“How?”

“I want you inside me. Hard and fast. _Please.”_

Lexa shudders. “Spread your legs for me.”

Clarke does as she is asked, exposing her bare sex as Lexa presses the dildo to her own mouth, wetting it with her tongue, although it’s probably not necessary with the extent of Clarke’s arousal.

“Go fast,” Clarke says again. “I’ll tell you if I want you to slow down.”

With caution she positions the head against Clarke’s lips, spinning it so that it collects her juices before running it up and down the length of her centre, just scraping against her sensitive clit.

“ _Lexa_ ,” Clarke growls. She has never been so openly desperate, so needy, and she doesn’t even care.

Now she pushes the head slowly forward, watching it disappear into her folds. Clarke groans from the pressure she has been waiting for. “Unnnhhhh…” she groans.

“All good?” Lexa asks, feeling the need to keep checking.

“Definitely good,” she gasps in reply. “More.”

She pushes forward again, the toy slipping in easier this time. It slides almost all the way to the base with how wet she is. She pulls it back out slowly, and then back in again, settling into a the fast rhythm Clarke had requested.

Clarke gives herself over to Lexa completely. In this moment she would have let her do anything.

Lexa makes sure to leave frequent kisses on her neck or collarbone as a reassurance of her love and care, a reminder that she can ask to stop at any time and she will still be just as madly in love with her.

“Can you hear that?” she whispers. It had always been a huge turn on for her, the wet sound of fucking a girl, the way it intensified the harder she went or the wetter she was. Clarke doesn’t even realise she is opening her legs wider, and Lexa takes immediate advantage, pressing the toy in deeper, right to the base.

Clarke’s moans have drowned out the sound of the toy driving in and out of her, and as Lexa thrusts it in deeper, the moans turn to whimpers as she starts to fall apart. Her face twists in pleasure as she approaches the edge. “Uh...gonna...I’m gonna...come,” she growls.

“Come for me, baby,” Lexa responds, enjoying the way Clarke’s face unravels as her orgasm hits her full force. She is always beautiful, but this is a different kind of beautiful, and it drives Lexa insane. Clarke thanks her with an unintelligible string of moans, body relaxing into a jelly-like state as Lexa withdraws the dildo, releasing with a pop.

“That was amazing,” she sighs, splayed out against the sheets, breathing heavily. “Wow. Fucking wow.”

“Are you tired?”

“Is that code for am I too tired to give you your turn?”

“Maybe.”

“Well that would just be rude,” she laughs, swinging her body up and on top of Lexa, perching completely naked on her hips. Lexa’s eyes go straight to her bare breasts, before her head falls back at the feeling of Clarke’s naked centre pressing wetness against her bare stomach.

“Clarke,” she gasps. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to do this again.”

“What? Are you ok?” Clarke pauses the slow grind of her hips for a moment, concern marring her features.

“Just because, I think you’re going to be the death of me.”

Clarke laughs and mock punches her, but the touch just serves to ignite Lexa’s already smoldering skin.

“You’re an idiot. Now shut up, and let me fuck you.”

***

When Lexa opens her eyes, Clarke is staring at her. She bumps their noses together and kisses her quickly between smiles that take over her entire face. She extracts the dildo from between the sheets and throws it on the floor. She wishes she could stay here forever. Her mind has finally stopped racing, worrying about things she cannot fix. She is blissfully happy.

“What are you thinking?” Clarke inquires.

“That I really love...fucking you,” she teases.

Clarke pinches her side and starts smothering her with tickles.

“Fine, fine. I love plain old you as well.”

“You’re so romantic.”

“You love it.”

“I do. I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked that one! comments on my smut writing is always appreciated as it is something I struggle with, especially as that one was more explicit than normal!  
> That may sadly be the end of this fic for now. If I am struck with a good idea for a final chapter or maybe an epilogue then I may add it on, but for now I've run out of ideas a little bit. I'm working on another idea at the moment, a clexa Ark AU with fuckboy Clarke and a kind of social divide thing going on...idk, we'll see where it goes. For now, I hope you guys have enjoyed Hearing You Whisper Through The Phone as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Feedback is, as always, very welcome. @ me on twitter (@HARMONSANGEL) if you want to :)  
> Lots of love, Amy x


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